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Tales and Verse 
from Sir Walter Scott 




SIR WALTER SCOTT 



TALES and VERSE 

from Sir Walter Scott 



Chosen and arranged by 
Hanson HartWebster; and 
Fanny E. Coe, Teacher of English 
in the Boston Normal School 



With an introduction to the Author 

by J. G. Lockhart, Dr. John Brown 

and Washington Irving 




AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 

NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO 



Copyright, 1914, by 
HANSON HART WEBSTER and FANNY E. COE. 

Copyright, 1914, in Great Britain. 



TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR W. SCOTT. 
E. P. I 



OCT 21 1914 

©CU380984 



•;«, 



t 



" Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! 
To all the sensual world proclaim, 
One crowded hour of glorious life 
Is worth an age without a name." 



V 

4*- 



FOREWORD 

It is a significant fact that the present year, 1914, is 
the centenary of the publication of " Waverley," herald 
of all the brilliant novels so soon to follow. This round- 
ing out of the century may well witness the publica- 
tion of hosts of magazine articles and books, all paying 
homage to the mighty Scott, whose name is still one 
to conjure with, who is still the " Wizard of the North." 

That the youth of the twentieth century may have 
his part in this renewed interest in Sir Walter Scott, 
the compilers offer this little volume to the pupils of 
the upper grammar grades and to students in the first 
years of the high school. 

Scott's place as an author is secure. There is no 
need to urge his claim by citing at this time that " in 
the vivid description of natural scenery he is without 
a rival " ; that " he can describe a battle with a vivid- 
ness unequalled by any poet since Homer " ; or that 
" his pictures will live in English literature beside Shake- 
speare's." These are truisms which the world has long 
conceded. 

As for the man, Scott, no one is dearer or more hu- 
man in English literature. His uprightness of soul, 
delicate sense of honor, purity, and sweet friendliness 
may well make him an ideal to the boy or girl. The 
man dwarfs his own heroes ; he is greater than his crea- 

7 



8 FOREWORD 

tions. This we see ever more clearly as the decades 
roll by. 

"Tales and Verse from Sir Walter Scott " contains 
the most famous of his lyrics and a goodly number 
of excerpts from his most representative novels. It is 
hoped that these may kindle in the child such keen 
interest in characters and situations that the immedi- 
ate reaction will be the reading of the novel itself from 
which the absorbing passage is drawn. A revival of 
enthusiasm for Scott's sane and wholesome work would 
be a most encouraging " sign of the times." 

Each selection is preceded by a brief introductory 
note, sufficient to give the setting of the scene ; and 
there are occasional footnotes upon the more unfamiliar 
allusions. The author's diction has been scrupulously 
preserved, save for a few abridgments of material not 
vital to the story or indeed extraneous to it. 

Intimate descriptions of Sir Walter Scott and of his 
beautiful and cherished home, Abbotsford, are given in 
the words of three of his friends. 

FANNY E. COE. 



CONTENTS 



AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

PAGE 

Sir Walter Scott and his Children . . .13 
Sir Walter and his Friend Marjorie . . .18 
The "Den" in the Edinburgh House ... 26 

Abbotsford in 1825 30 

A Visit at Abbotsford 42 

Scott's Career as Poet and Novelist . . . 54 



TALES AND VERSE 

Sir Kenneth and the Saracen 

The Trial of the Swords 

The Tournament 

The Last Day at Ashby 

The Archery Contest 

Rebecca's Hymn 

The Besieged Castle 

Pibroch of Donald Dhu 

The Battle of the Clans 

The Battle of Harlaw 

Coronach . 

Boat Song . 

Jock of Hazeldean . 



57 

69 

86 

103 

123 

133 

135 
148 

181 

183 
184 

187 



IO 



CONTENTS 



Why King Louis changed his Mind 

County Guy . 

"The sun upon the lake" 

The Battle of Neufchatel 

" Soldier, rest!" 

Lochinvar .... 

Brignall Banks 

Queen Mary's Escape from Lochleven 

Marmion and Douglas 

Walter Raleigh meets the Queen 

Queen Elizabeth's Welcome to Kenilworth 

rosabelle .... 

Glee for King Charles . 

Patriotism .... 

Bonny Dundee . 

Before the Privy Council 

The Ruses of Caleb 

Allen-a-Dale 

"Look not thou on beauty's 

MacGregor's Gathering . 

Rob Roy in the Toils 

"a weary lot is thine, fair 

Nora's Vow 

Lullaby of an Infant Chief 

The March of the Highland 

Border Song 

Proud Maisie 

Dominie Sampson 

Alice Brand 



charming 



MAID 



Army 



189 
210 
210 
212 
221 
222 
226 
229 

251 

255 
268 
279 
281 
282 
284 
288 
300 
318 

3i9 

320 

322 

337 
338 
339 
34i 
349 
35o 
35i 
359 



CONTENTS 1 1 

PAGE 

Hunting Song . 363 

Christmas in Merry England . . . .366 
The Scotsman at Home 370 

APPENDIX 

Reference Books 379 

Important Dates in English and Scottish His- 
tory, together with the Novels and Poems of 
Scott which Illustrate the Various Periods 381 
The Place and the Time of the Principal Scenes 

of the Waverley Novels 383 



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AN INTRODUCTION TO THE 

AUTHOR 

SIR WALTER SCOTT AND HIS CHILDREN 1 

By JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART 

No father ever devoted more time and tender 
care to his offspring than Scott did to each of his, 
as they successively reached the age when they 
could listen to him, and understand his talk. 2 
Like their mute playmates, Camp and the grey- 
hounds, they had at all times free access to his 
study ; he never considered their tattle as any 
disturbance ; they went and came as pleased their 
fancy ; he was always ready to answer their 

1 From " Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott." 

2 This is a description of Scott's children in one of their father's letters 
written in 1806: "Walter has acquired the surname of Gilnockie, being 
large of limb and bone, and dauntless in disposition, like that noted chief- 
tain. Your little friend Sophia is grown a tall girl, and I think promises 
to be very clever, as she discovers uncommon acuteness of apprehension. 
We have, moreover, a little roundabout girl, with large dark eyes, as brown, 
as good-humored, and as lively as the mother that bore her, and of whom 
she is the most striking picture. Over and above all this there is in rerum 
natura a certain little Charles, so called after the Knight of the Crocodile; 
but of this gentleman I can say but little, as he is only five months, and con- 
sequently not at the time of life when I can often enjoy the honor of his 
company." 

13 



14 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

questions ; and when they, unconscious how he 
was engaged, entreated him to lay down his pen 
and tell them a story, he would take them on his 
knee, repeat a ballad or a legend, kiss them, and 
set them down again to their marbles or ninepins, 
and resume his labor as if refreshed by the in- 
terruption. From a very early age he made 
them dine at table, and "to sit up to supper" 
was the great reward when they had been "very 
good bairns." In short, he considered it as the 
highest duty as well as the sweetest pleasure of a 
parent to be the companion of his children ; he 
partook of all their little joys and sorrows, and 
made his kind unformal instructions to blend so 
easily and playfully with the current of their own 
sayings and doings, that so far from regarding 
him with any distant awe, it was never thought 
that any sport or diversion could go on in the 
right way, unless papa were of the party, or that 
the rainiest day could be dull so he were at home. 
Of the irregularity of his own education he 
speaks with considerable regret, in the autobio- 
graphical fragment written in 1808 at Ashestiel ; 
yet his practice does not look as if that feeling had 
been strongly rooted in his mind ; — for he never 
did show much concern about regulating system- 
atically what is usually called education in the 
case of his own children. It seemed, on the 
contrary, as if he attached little importance to 



SIR WALTER SCOTT AND HIS CHILDREN 15 

anything else, so he could perceive that the young 
curiosity was excited — the intellect, by what- 
ever springs of interest, set in motion. He de- 
tested and despised the whole generation of 
modern children's books, in which the attempt 
is made to convey accurate notions of scientific 
minutiae : delighting cordially, on the other hand, 
in those of the preceding age, which, addressing 
themselves chiefly to the imagination, obtain 
through it, as he believed, the best chance of 
stirring our graver faculties also. He exercised 
the memory, by selecting for tasks of recitation 
passages of popular verse the most likely to catch 
the fancy of children ; and gradually familiarized 
them with the ancient history of their own country, 
by arresting attention, in the course of his own oral 
narrations, on incidents and characters of a similar 
description. Nor did he neglect to use the same 
means of quickening curiosity as to the events of 
sacred history. On Sunday he never rode — at 
least not until his growing infirmity made his 
pony almost necessary to him ; for it was his 
principle that all domestic animals have a full 
right to their Sabbath of rest ; but after he had 
read the church service, he usually walked with 
his whole family, dogs included, to some favorite 
spot at a considerable distance from the house — ■ 
most frequently the ruined tower of Elibank — ■ 
and there dined with them in the open air on a 



1 6 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

basket of cold provisions, mixing his wine with 
the water of the brook beside which they all were 
grouped around him on the turf; and here, or at 
home, if the weather kept them from their ramble, 
his Sunday talk was just such a series of Biblical 
lessons as that which we have preserved for the 
permanent use of rising generations, in his " Tales 
of a Grandfather/' on the early history of Scotland. 
I wish he had committed that other series to writ- 
ing too. 

By many external accomplishments, either in 
girl or boy, he set little store. He delighted to 
hear his daughters sing an old ditty, or one of his 
own framing ; but, so the singer appeared to feel 
the spirit of her ballad, he was not at all critical 
of the technical execution. There was one thing, 
however, on which he fixed his heart hardly less 
than the ancient Persians ; like them, next to 
love of truth, he held love of horsemanship for 
the prime point of education. As soon as his 
eldest girl could sit a pony, she was made the 
regular attendant of his mountain rides ; and 
they all, as they attained sufficient strength, had 
the like advancement. He taught them to think 
nothing of tumbles, and habituated them to his 
own reckless delight in perilous fords and flooded 
streams ; and they all imbibed in great perfection 
his passion for horses — as well, I may venture 
to add, as his deep reverence for the more impor- 



SIR WALTER SCOTT AND HIS CHILDREN 17 

tant article of that Persian training. "Without 
courage/' he said, "there cannot be truth; and 
without truth there can be no other virtue." 

He had a horror of boarding schools ; never 
allowed his girls to learn anything out of his own 
house ; and chose their governess — Miss Miller 

— who about this time was domesticated with 
them, and never left them while they needed one, 

— with far greater regard to her kind good tem- 
per and excellent moral and religious principles 
than to the measure of her attainments in what 
are called fashionable accomplishments. The ad- 
mirable system of education for boys in Scotland 
combines all the advantages of public and private 
instruction ; his carried their satchels to the High 
School, when the family was in Edinburgh, just as 
he had done before them, and shared of course the 
evening society of their happy home. But he 
rarely, if ever, left them in town, when he could 
himself be in the country ; and at Ashestiel he 
was, for better or for worse, his eldest boy's 
daily tutor, after he began Latin. 



SIR WALTER AND HIS FRIEND MARJORIE 1 

By DR. JOHN BROWN 

One November afternoon in 1810 — the year 
in which " Waverley" was resumed and laid aside 
again, to be finished off, its last two volumes in 
three weeks, and made immortal in 18 14, and 
when its author, by the death of Lord Melville, 
narrowly escaped getting a civil appointment in 
India — three men, evidently lawyers, might have 
been seen escaping like schoolboys from the 
Parliament House, and speeding arm-in-arm down 
Bank Street and the Mount, in the teeth of a surly 
blast of sleet. 

The three friends sought the bield of the low 
wall old Edinburgh boys remember well, and 
sometimes miss now, as they struggle with the 
stout west wind. 

The three were curiously unlike each other. 
One, "a little man of feeble make, who would be 
unhappy if his pony got beyond a foot pace/ 5 
slight, with "small, elegant features, hectic cheek, 
and soft hazel eyes, the index of the quick, sen- 

1 An excerpt from " Marjorie Fleming." 
18 



SIR WALTER AND HIS FRIEND MARJORIE 19 

sitive spirit within, as if he had the warm heart of 
a woman, her genuine enthusiasm, and some of 
her weaknesses. " Another, as unlike a woman 
as a man can be ; homely, almost common, in 
look and figure ; his hat and his coat, and indeed 
his entire covering, worn to the quick, but all of 
the best material ; what redeemed him from vul- 
garity and meanness were his eyes, deep set, 
heavily thatched, keen, hungry, shrewd, with a 
slumbering glow far in, as if they could be dan- 
gerous ; a man to care nothing for at first glance, 
but somehow, to give a second and not-forgetting 
look at. The third was the biggest of the three, 
and though lame, nimble, and all rough and alive 
with power ; had you met him anywhere else, 
you would say he was a Liddesdale store-farmer 
come of gentle blood; "a stout, blunt carle/' as 
he says of himself, with the swing and stride and 
the eye of a man of the hills, — a large, sunny, 
out-of-door air all about him. On his broad and 
somewhat stooping shoulders was set that head 
which, with Shakespeare's and Bonaparte's, is 
the best known in all the world. 

He was in high spirits, keeping his companions 
and himself in roars of laughter, and every now 
and then seizing them, and stopping, that they 
might take their fill of the fun ; there they stood 
shaking with laughter, "not an inch of their body 
free" from its grip. At George Street they parted, 



20 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

one to Rose Court, behind St. Andrew's Church, 
one to Albany Street, the other, our big and limp- 
ing friend, to Castle Street. 

We need hardly give their names. The first 
was William Erskine, afterwards Lord Kinnedder, 
chased out of the world by a calumny, killed by 
its foul breath, — 

" And at the touch of wrong, without a strife 
Slipped in a moment out of life." 

There is nothing in literature more beautiful or 
more pathetic than Scott's love and sorrow for 
this friend of his youth. 

The second was William Clerk, — the Darsie 
Latimer of " Redgauntlet " ; "a man," as Scott 
says, "of the most acute intellects and powerful 
apprehension/' but of more powerful indolence, 
so as to leave the world with little more than the 
report of what he might have been, — a humorist 
as genuine, though not quite so savagely Swiftian 
as his brother, Lord Eldin, neither of whom had 
much of that commonest and best of all the humors, 
called good. 

The third we all know. What has he not done 
for every one of us ? Who else ever, except 
Shakespeare, so diverted mankind, entertained 
and entertains a world so liberally, so whole- 
somely ? We are fain to say, not even Shake- 
speare, for his is something deeper than diversion, 



SIR WALTER AND HIS FRIEND MARJORIE 21 

something higher than pleasure, and yet who 
would care to split this hair ? 

Had any one watched him closely before and 
after the parting, what a change he would see ! 
The bright, broad laugh, the shrewd, jovial word, 
the man of the Parliament House and of the 
world ; and next step, moody, the light of his 
eye withdrawn, as if seeing things that were in- 
visible ; his shut mouth, like a child's, so im- 
pressionable, so innocent, so sad ; he was now 
all within, as before he was all without ; hence 
his brooding look. As the snow blattered in his 
face, he muttered: "How it raves and drafts! 
On-ding o' snaw, — ay, that's the word, — on- 
ding." He was now at his own door, "Castle 
Street, No. 39." He opened the door, and went 
straight to his den ; that wondrous workshop, 
where, in one year, 1823, when he was fifty-two, 
he wrote " Peveril of the Peak," "Quentin Dur- 
ward," and " St. Ronan's Well," besides much else. 
We once took the foremost of our novelists, the 
greatest, we would say, since Scott, into this 
room, and could not but mark the solemnizing effect 
of sitting where the great magician sat so often and 
so long, and looking out upon that little shabby 
bit of sky and that back green, where faithful 
Camp lies. 1 

1 This favorite dog "died about January 1809 and was buried in a fine 
moonlight night in the little garden behind the house in Castle Street. 



22 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

He sat down in his large green morocco elbow- 
chair, drew himself close to his table, and glowered 
and gloomed at his writing apparatus, "a very 
handsome old box, richly carved, lined with crim- 
son velvet, and containing ink bottles, taper stand, 
etc., in silver, the whole in such order, that it 
might have come from the silversmith's window 
half an hour before. " He took out his paper, 
then starting up angrily said, "' Go spin, you jade, 
go spin/ No, it won't do, — 

" 'My spinnin' wheel is auld and stiff, 
The rock o't wunna stand, sir, 
To keep the temper-pin in tiff 
Employs ower aft my hand, sir/ 

I am off the fang. I can make nothing of Waver- 
ley to-day ; I'll awa' to Marjorie. Come wi' me, 
Maida, you thief/' The great creature rose slowly, 
and the pair were off, Scott taking a maud (a 
plaid) with him. "White as a frosted plum-cake, 
by jingo !' 5 said he, when he got to the street. 
Maida gamboled and whisked among the snow, 
and his master strode across to Young Street, 
and through it to i North Charlotte Street, to 
the house of his dear friend, Mrs. William Keith, 

My wife tells me she remembers the whole family in tears about the grave 
as her father himself smoothed the turf above Camp, with the saddest face 
she had ever seen. He had been engaged to dine abroad that day, but 
apologized, on account of the death of a 'dear old friend.'" — LoCKHART's 
" Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott/' 



SIR WALTER AND HIS FRIEND MARJORIE 23 

of Corstorphine Hill, niece of Mrs. Keith, of 
Ravelston, of whom he said at her death, eight years 
after, "Much tradition, and that of the best, 
has died with this excellent old lady, one of the 
few persons whose spirits and cleanliness and 
freshness of mind and body made old age lovely 
and desirable/' 

Sir Walter was in that house almost every day, 
and had a key, so in he and the hound went, shak- 
ing themselves in the lobby. "Marjorie ! Mar- 
jorie \ 9i shouted her friend, "where are ye, my 
bonnie wee croodling doo ?'' In a moment a 
bright, eager child of seven was in his arms, and 
he was kissing her all over. Out came Mrs. 
Keith. "Come yer ways in, Wattie." "No, not 
now. I am going to take Marjorie wi' me, and 
you may come to your tea in Duncan Roy's sedan, 
and bring the bairn home in your lap/' "Tak' 
Marjorie, and it on-ding o' snaw !" said Mrs. 
Keith. He said to himself, "On-ding, — that's 
odd, — that is the very word." "Hoot, awa ! 
look here," and he displayed the corner of his 
plaid, made to hold lambs (the true shepherd's 
plaid, consisting of two breadths sewed together, 
and uncut at one end, making a poke or cul de sac). 
"Tak' yer lamb," said she, laughing at the con- 
trivance, and so the Pet was first well happit up 
and then put, laughing silently, into the plaid 
neuk, and the shepherd strode off with his lamb, 



24 



AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 



— Maida gamboling through the snow, and 
running races in his mirth. 

Didn't he face "the angry airt," and make her 
bield his bosom, and into his own room with her, 
and lock the door, and out with the warm, rosy, 
little wifie, who took it all with great composure ! 
There the two remained for three or more hours, 
making the house ring with their laughter ; you 
can fancy the big man's and Maidie's laugh. 
Having made the fire cheery, he set her down in 
his ample chair, and standing sheepishly before 
her, began to say his lesson, which happened to 
be, — "Ziccotty, diccotty, dock, the mouse ran 
up the clock, the clock struck wan, down the 
mouse ran, ziccotty, diccotty, dock/' This done 
repeatedly till she was pleased, she gave him his 
new lesson, gravely and slowly, timing it upon 
her small fingers, — he saying it after her, — 

"Wonery, twoery, tickery, seven; 
Alibi, crackaby, ten, and eleven; 
Pin, pan, musky, dan; 
Twenty-wan ; eerie, orie, ourie, 
You, are, out." 

He pretended to great difficulty and she re- 
buked him with most comical gravity, treating 
him as a child. He used to say that when he 
came to Alibi Crackaby he broke down, and 
Pin-Pan, Musky-Dan, Tweedle-um Twoddle-um 
made him roar with laughter. He said Musky- 



SIR WALTER AND HIS FRIEND MARJORIE 25 

Dan especially was beyond endurance, bringing 
up an Irishman and his hat fresh from the Spice 
Islands and odoriferous Ind ; she getting quite 
bitter in her displeasure at his ill behavior and 
stupidness. 

Then he would read ballads to her in his own 
glorious way, the two getting wild with excite- 
ment over Gil Mortice or the Baron of Smailholm ; 
and he would take her on his knee, and make her 
repeat Constance's speeches in King John, till he 
swayed to and fro, sobbing his fill. Fancy the 
gifted little creature, like one possessed, re- 
peating, — 

"For I am sick, and capable of fears, 
Oppressed with wrong, and therefore full of fears, 
A widow, husbandless, subject to fears — 
A woman, naturally born to fears/' 

Or drawing herself up " to the height of her great 



argument, — 

"I will instruct my sorrows to be proud, 
For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout. 
Here I and sorrow sit." 

Scott used to say that he was amazed at her 
power over him, saying to Mrs. Keith, "She's 
the most extraordinary creature I ever met with, 
and her repeating of Shakespeare overpowers me 
as nothing else does." 



THE "DEN" IN THE EDINBURGH HOUSE 1 

By JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART 

[In 1 812, Sir Walter purchased land on the Tweed, near 
Melrose, and built his famous house Abbotsford. Here he 
lived almost continuously until his death in 1832, repeatedly 
enlarging his buildings and his estate, and entertaining 
lavishly. While editing the Edinburgh Annual Register, 
however, — a survey of world history for each preceding 
year, issued during several years prior to 181 8, — Scott took 
up temporary quarters at the house No. 39 Castle Street, 
Edinburgh. Of the "den" in this house, Lockhart gives an 
interesting description.] 

The "den 5 had but a single Venetian window, 
opening on a patch of turf not much larger than 
itself, and the aspect of the place was on the whole 
sombrous. The walls were entirely clothed with 
books ; most of them folios and quartos, and all 
in that complete state of repair which at a glance 
reveals a tinge of bibliomania. A dozen volumes 
or so, needful for immediate purposes of reference, 
were placed close by him on a small movable 
frame — something like a dumb-waiter. All the 
rest were in their proper niches, and wherever a 
volume had been lent, its room was occupied by a 
wooden block of the same size, having a card with 

1 From " Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott.' 

26 



THE "DEN" IN THE EDINBURGH HOUSE 27 

the name of the borrower and date of the loan, 
tacked on its front. The old bindings had ob- 
viously been retouched and regilt in the most 
approved manner ; the new, when the books were 
of any mark, were rich, but never gaudy — a 
large proportion of blue morocco — all stamped 
with his device of the portcullis, and its motto, 
clausus tutus ero — being an anagram of his name 
in Latin. Every case and shelf was accurately 
lettered, and the works arranged systematically ; 
history and biography on one side — poetry and 
the drama on another — law books and diction- 
aries behind his own chair. The only table was 
a massive piece of furniture which he had con- 
structed on the model of one at Rokeby ; with a 
desk and all its appurtenances on either side, that 
an amanuensis might work opposite to him when 
he chose ; and with small tiers of drawers, reach- 
ing all round to the floor. The top displayed a 
goodly array of session papers, and on the desk 
below were, besides the MS. at which he was 
working, sundry parcels of letters, proof sheets, 
and so forth, all neatly done up with red tape. 
Besides his own huge elbowchair, there were 
but two others in the room, and one of these 
seemed, from its position, to be reserved exclusively 
for the amanuensis. I observed, during the first 
evening I spent with him in this sanctum, that 
while he talked, his hands were hardly ever idle ; 



28 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

sometimes he folded letter covers, sometimes he 
twisted paper into matches, — performing both tasks 
with great mechanical expertness and nicety ; 
and when there was no loose paper fit to be so 
dealt with, he snapped his fingers, and the noble 
Maida aroused himself from his lair on the hearth 
rug, and laid his head across his master's knees, 
to be caressed and fondled. The room had no 
space for pictures except one, a portrait of Claver- 
house, which hung over the chimney piece, with a 
Highland target on either side, and broadswords 
and dirks (each having its own story) disposed 
star-fashion round them. A few green tin-boxes, 
such as solicitors keep title deeds in, were piled 
over each other on one side of the window ; and 
on the top of these lay a fox's tail, mounted on 
an antique silver handle, wherewith, as often as 
he had occasion to take down a book, he gently 
brushed the dust off the upper leaves before 
opening it. I think I have mentioned all the 
furniture of the room except a sort of ladder, 
low, broad, well carpeted, and strongly guarded 
with oaken rails, by which he helped himself to 
books from his higher shelves. On the top step 
of this convenience, Hinse of Hinsfeldt (so called 
from one of the German Tales for Children), a 
venerable tomcat, fat and sleek, and no longer 
very locomotive, usually lay watching the pro- 
ceedings of his master and Maida with an air of 



THE "DEN" IN THE EDINBURGH HOUSE 29 

dignified equanimity ; but when Maida chose to 
leave the party, he signified his inclinations by 
thumping the door with his huge paw, as violently 
as ever a fashionable footman handled a knocker 
in Grosvenor Square ; the Sheriff rose and opened 
it for him with courteous alacrity, — and then 
Hinse came down purring from his perch, and 
mounted guard by the footstool, vice Maida 
absent upon furlough. Whatever discourse might 
be passing was broken every now and then by 
some affectionate apostrophe to these four-footed 
friends. He said they understood everything he 
said to them — and I believe they did understand 
a great deal of it. But at all events, dogs and 
cats, like children, have some infallible tact for 
discovering at once who is, and who is not, really 
fond of their company ; and I venture to say, 
Scott was never five minutes in any room before 
the little pets of the family, whether dumb or 
lisping, had found out his kindness for all their 
generation. 



ABBOTSFORD IN 182s 1 

By JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART 

Some fifteen or sixteen years ago, tells me, 

there was not a more unlovely spot, in this part 
of the world, than that on which Abbotsford now 
exhibits all its quaint architecture and beautiful 
accompaniment of garden and woodland. A mean 
farmhouse stood on part of the site of the present 
edifice; a " kailyard" bloomed where the stately 
embattled courtyard now spreads itself; and 
for a thousand acres of flourishing plantations, 
half of which have all the appearance of being 
twice as old as they really are, there was but a 
single long straggling stripe of unthriving firs. 
The river must needs remain in statu quo; and 
I will not believe that any place so near those 
clearest and sweetest of all waters could ever 
have been quite destitute of charms. The scene, 
however, was no doubt wild enough : a naked moor 

— a few turnip fields painfully reclaimed from it 

— a Scotch cottage — a Scotch farmyard, and 
some Scotch firs. It is difficult to imagine a more 
complete contrast to the Abbotsford of 1825. 

1 Adapted from " Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott." 

30 




Abbotsford 




Sir Walter Scott's Library 
3i 



32 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

Sir Walter is, as you have no doubt heard, a 
most zealous agriculturist, and arboriculturist 
especially ; and he is allowed to have done things 
with this estate, since it came into his possession, 
which would have been reckoned wonders, even 
if they had occupied the whole of a clever and 
skillful man's attention, during more years than 
have elapsed since he began to write himself 
Laird of Abbotsford. He has some excellent 
arable land on the banks of the Tweed, and to- 
wards the little town of Melrose, which lies three 
miles from the mansion ; but the bulk of the 
property is hilly country, with deep narrow dells 
interlacing it. Of this he has planted fully one 
half, and it is admitted on all hands that his 
rising forest has been laid out, arranged, and 
managed with consummate taste, care, and suc- 
cess ; so much so, that the general appearance of 
Tweedside, for some miles, is already quite altered 
by the graceful ranges of his woodland. 

But I am keeping you too long away from 
"The Roof-tree of Monkbarns," which is situated 
on the brink of the last of a series of irregular 
hills, descending from the elevation of the Eildons 
to the Tweed. The building is such a one, I 
dare say, as nobody but he would ever have 
dreamed of erecting ; or if he had, escaped being 
quizzed for his pains. Yet it is eminently im- 
posing in its general effect ; and in most of its 



ABBOTSFORD IN 1825 33 

details not only full of historical interest, but 
beauty also. 

By the principal approach you come very sud- 
denly on the edifice ; — but this evil, if evil it be, 
was unavoidable, in consequence of the vicinity 
of a public road. The gateway is a lofty arch 
rising out of an embattled wall of considerable 
height. On entering, you find yourself within 
an inclosure of perhaps half an acre, two sides 
thereof being protected by the high wall above 
mentioned, all along which, inside, a trellised 
walk extends itself — broad, cool, and dark over- 
head with roses and honeysuckles. The third 
side, to the east, shows a screen of open arches 
of Gothic stonework, filled with a network of 
iron, and affording delightful glimpses of the 
gardens. This elegant screen abuts on the east- 
ern extremity of the house, which runs along the 
whole of the northern side (and a small part of 
the western) of the great inclosure. Within this 
inclosure, there is room for a piece of the most 
elaborate turf; and rosaries, of all manner of 
shapes and sizes, gradually connect this green 
pavement with the roof of the trellis walk, a 
verdant cloister, over which appears the gray wall 
with its little turrets ; and over that again climb 
oak, elm, birch, and hazel, up a steep bank — so 
steep, that the trees, young as they are, give 
already all the effect of a sweeping amphitheater 



34 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

of wood. The background on that side is wholly 
forest ; on the east, the garden loses itself in 
forest by degrees ; on the west, there is wood on 
wood also, but with glimpses of the Tweed between ; 
and in the distance (some half-a-dozen miles off) a 
complete sierra, the ridge of the mountains between 
Tweed and Yarrow. 

The house is more than one hundred and fifty 
feet long in front, as I paced it ; was built at two 
different onsets ; has a tall tower at either end, 
the one not in the least like the other ; presents 
sundry zigzagged gables to the eye ; most fantas- 
tic water spouts ; groups of right Elizabethan 
chimneys ; balconies of divers fashions, greater 
and lesser ; stones carved with heraldries in- 
numerable, let in here and there in the wall ; and 
a very noble projecting gateway. From this 
porchway, which is spacious and airy and adorned 
with some enormous petrified stag horns overhead, 
you are admitted by a pair of folding doors into 
the imposing hall. The lofty windows, only two 
in number, being wholly covered with coats of 
arms, the place appears as dark as. the twelfth 
century, on your first entrance from noonday; 
but the delicious coolness of the atmosphere is 
luxury enough for a minute or two ; and by 
degrees your eyes get accustomed to the effect 
of those "storied panes/' and you are satisfied that 
you stand in one of the most picturesque of apart- 



ABBOTSFORD IN 1825 35 

ments. The hall is about forty feet long by twenty 
in height and breadth. The walls are of richly 
carved oak, most part of it exceedingly dark, and 
brought, it seems, from the old Abbey of Dun- 
fermline ; the roof, a series of pointed arches of 
the same, each beam presenting in the center a 
shield of arms richly blazoned. All around the 
cornice of this noble room there runs a continued 
series of blazoned shields of another sort still ; 
at the center of one end I saw the bloody heart 
of Douglas, and opposite to that the Royal Lion 
of Scotland, — and between the ribs there is an 
inscription in black letter, which I after some 
trials read. To the best of my recollection, the 
words are — "These be the Coat Armories of 
the Clannis and Chief Men of name wha keepit 
the marchys of Scotland in the aulde time for the 
Kinge. Trewe ware they were in their tyme, 
and in their defence God them defendit." The 
floor of this hall is black and white marble, from 
the Hebrides, wrought lozenge-wise ; and the 
upper walls are completely hung with arms and 
armor. Two full suits of splendid steel occupy 
niches at the eastern end ; the one an English 
suit of Henry the Fifth's time, the other an Italian, 
not quite as old. The variety of cuirasses, black 
and white, plain and sculptured, is endless ; hel- 
mets are in equal profusion ; stirrups and spurs, 
of every fantasy, dangle about and below them ; 



36 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

and there are swords of every order, from the 
enormous two-handed weapon with which the 
Swiss peasants dared to withstand the spears of 
the Austrian chivalry, to the claymore of the 
" Forty-five" and the rapier of Dettingen. A 
series of German executioners' swords was pointed 
out to me, on the blade of one of which are the 
arms of Augsburg, and a legend, which may be 
thus rendered, — 

"Dust, when I strike, to dust. From sleepless grave, 
Sweet Jesu ! stoop, a sin-stained soul to save/' 

" Stepping westward" (as Wordsworth says) from 
this hall, you find yourself in a narrow, low-arched 
room, which runs quite across the house, having 
a blazoned window again at either extremity, and 
filled all over with smaller pieces of armor and 
weapons, — such as swords, firelocks, spears, 
arrows, darts, daggers, etc., etc., etc. Here are 
the pieces esteemed most precious by reason of 
their histories. I saw, among the rest, Rob Roy's 
gun, with his initials R. M. C. {i.e., Robert Mac- 
gregor Campbell) round the touchhole ; the 
blunderbuss of Hofer, a present to Sir Walter 
from his friend Sir Humphrey Davy ; a mag- 
nificent sword, as magnificently mounted, the 
gift of Charles the First to the great Montrose ; 
the hunting bottle of bonnie King Jamie ; and 
Buonaparte's pistols (found in his carriage at 



ABBOTSFORD IN 1825 37 

Waterloo, I believe). I should have mentioned 
that stag horns, and bulls' horns and so forth, 
are suspended in great abundance above all the 
doorways of these armories ; and that, in one 
corner, a dark one, as it ought to be, there is a 
complete assortment of the old Scottish instru- 
ments of torture. These relics of other and for 
the most part darker years are disposed, how- 
ever, with so much grace and elegance, that I 
doubt if Mr. Hope himself would find anything 
to quarrel with in the beautiful apartments which 
contain them. In the hall, when the weather is 
hot, the Baronet is accustomed to dine ; and a 
gallant refectory, no question, it must make. 

Beyond the smaller, or rather I should say the 
narrower, armory, lies the dining parlor proper. 
When lighted up and the curtains down at night, 
the place may give no bad notion of the private 
snuggery of some lofty lord abbot of the time of 
the Canterbury Tales. The room is a handsome 
one, with a low and richly carved roof of dark 
oak. The walls are hung in crimson, but almost 
entirely covered with pictures, of which one of 
the most remarkable is the head of Mary, Queen 
of Scots, in a charger, painted by Amias Cawood 
the day after the decapitation of Fotheringay, 
and sent some years ago as a present to Sir Walter 
from a Prussian nobleman, in whose family it 
had been for more than two centuries. It is a 



38 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

most deathlike performance, and the countenance 
answers well enough to the coins of the unfortunate 
beauty, though not at all to any of the portraits 
I have happened to see. Among various family 
pictures, I noticed particularly Sir Walter's great- 
grandfather, the old Cavalier mentioned in one 
of the epistles in. Marmion, who let his beard grow 
after the execution of Charles the First. Beyond 
and alongside are narrowish passages, which make 
one fancy one's self in some dim old monastery ; 
for roofs and walls and windows are sculptured 
in stone, after the richest relics of Melrose and 
Roslin Chapel. One of these leads to a charming 
breakfast room, which looks to the Tweed on one 
side, and towards Yarrow and Ettrick, famed in 
song, on the other ; a cheerful room, fitted up with 
novels, romances, and poetry, at one end ; and 
the other walls covered with a valuable and beau- 
tiful collection of water-color drawings. There 
is one good oil painting over the chimney piece 
— Fast Castle, by Thomson, alias the Wolfs 
Crag of The Bride of Lammermoor. Returning 
towards the armory, you have, on one side of a 
most religious-looking corridor, a small greenhouse, 
with a fountain playing before it — the very foun- 
tain that in days of yore graced the Cross of Edin- 
burgh, and used to flow with claret at the corona- 
tion of the Stuarts. From the small armory you 
pass into the drawing-room, another handsome and 



ABBOTSFORD IN 1825 39 

spacious apartment, with antique ebony furniture 
and crimson silk hangings, cabinets, china, and 
mirrors. From this you pass into the largest of 
all these rooms, the library. It is an oblong of 
some fifty feet by thirty, with a projection in the 
center, opposite the fireplace, terminating in a 
grand bow window, fitted up with books also, and, 
in fact, constituting a sort of chapel to the church. 
The roof is of carved oak again — a very rich 
pattern — chiefly a la Roslin ; and the bookcases, 
which are also of richly carved oak, reach high up 
the walls all round. The collection amounts, in 
this room, to some fifteen or twenty thousand 
volumes, arranged according to their subjects : 
British history and antiquities filling the whole of 
the chief wall ; English poetry and drama, classics 
and miscellanies, one end ; foreign literature, 
chiefly French and German, the other. The cases 
on the side opposite the fire are wired, and locked, 
as containing books and manuscripts very precious 
and very portable. There are few living authors 
of whose works presentation copies are not to be 
found here. My friend showed me inscriptions of 
that sort in, I believe, every European dialect 
extant. The only picture is Sir Walter's eldest 
son, in hussar uniform, and holding his horse, 
by Allan of Edinburgh, — a noble portrait, over 
the fireplace ; and the only bust is that of Shake- 
speare, from the Avon monument, in a small niche 



40 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

in the center of the east side. On a rich stand of 
porphyry, in a corner, reposes a tall silver urn, 
filled with bones from the Piraeus, and bearing 
the inscription, " Given by George Gordon, Lord 
Byron, to Sir Walter Scott, Bart." 

Connecting with this fine room, and fronting — 
which none of the other sitting rooms do — to 
the south, is a smaller library, the sanctum of the 
Author. This room, which seems to be a crib of 
about twenty feet, contains, of what is properly 
called furniture, nothing but a small writing 
table in the center, a plain armchair covered with 
black leather, and a single chair besides, — plain 
symptoms that this is no place for company. On 
either side of the fireplace there are shelves filled 
with books of reference, chiefly, of course, folios ; 
but except these, there are no books save the con- 
tents of a light gallery which runs round three 
sides of the room, and is reached by a hanging stair 
of carved oak in one corner. There are only two 
portraits — an original of the beautiful and mel- 
ancholy head of Claverhouse 1 (Bonnie Dundee), 
and a small full-length of Rob Roy. 2 Various 
little antique cabinets stand round about, each 
having a bust on it. Stothard's Canterbury 
Pilgrims are over the mantelpiece ; above them is 
a Highland target, with a star of claymores ; and 

1 See the selections on pages 284, 288. 

2 See the selections on pages 320, 322. 



ABBOTSFORD IN 1825 41 

in one corner I saw a collection of really useful 
weapons — those of the forest craft, to wit — 
axes and bills, and so forth, of every caliber. 

The view to the Tweed from all the principal 
apartments is beautiful. You look out from among 
bowers over a lawn of sweet turf, upon the clearest 
of all streams, fringed with the wildest of birch 
woods, and backed with the green hills of Ettrick 
Forest. 



A VISIT AT ABBOTSFORD 

By WASHINGTON IRVING 1 

[In August, 1 817, Irving was touring in Scotland. He 
had been given a letter of introduction to Sir Walter, to 
whom he was already known by reputation as the author of 
" Knickerbocker's History of New York" ; so, finding himself 
on the highroad above Abbotsford, he halted his chaise, 
and sent to the house "with a card on which he had written, 
that he was on his way to the ruins of Melrose, and wished 
to know whether it would be agreeable to Mr. Scott to re- 
ceive a visit from him in the course of the morning/' The 
account of his visit follows, in Irving's own words.] 

The noise of my chaise had disturbed the quiet 
of the establishment. Out sallied the warder of the 
castle, a black greyhound, and leaping on one of 
the blocks of stone, began a furious barking. This 
alarm brought out the whole garrison of dogs, all 
open-mouthed and vociferous. In a little while 
the lord of the castle himself made his appearance. 
I knew him at once by the likenesses that had been 
published of him. He came limping up the gravel 
walk, aiding himself by a stout walking staff, but 
moving rapidly and with vigor. By his side 
jogged along a large iron-gray staghound, of most 
grave demeanor, who took no part in the clamor 
of the canine rabble, but seemed to consider him- 

1 Quoted by Lockhart in his " Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott/' 

42 



44 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

self bound, for the dignity of the house, to give me 
a courteous reception. — Before Scott reached the 
gate, he called out in a hearty tone, welcoming 
me to Abbotsford, and asking news of Campbell. 
Arrived at the door of the chaise, he grasped me 
warmly by the hand: "Come, drive down, drive 
down to the house/' said he, "ye're just in time 
for breakfast, and afterwards ye shall see all the 
wonders of the Abbey. " I would have excused 
myself on the plea of having already made my 
breakfast. "Hut, man/' cried he, ,u a ride in the 
morning in the keen air of the Scotch hills is war- 
rant enough for a second breakfast/' I was 
accordingly whirled to the portal of the cottage, 
and in a few moments found myself seated at the 
breakfast table. There was no one present but 
the family, which consisted of Mrs. Scott ; her 
eldest daughter, Sophia, then a fine girl about 
seventeen ; Miss Anne Scott, two or three years 
younger ; Walter, a well-grown stripling ; and 
Charles, a lively boy, eleven or twelve years of age. 
— I soon felt myself quite at home, and my heart 
in a glow, with the cordial welcome I experienced. 
I had thought to make a mere morning visit, but 
found I was not to be let off so lightly. 'You 
must not think our neighborhood is to be read in 
a morning like a newspaper," said Scott ; "it takes 
several days of study for an observant traveler 
that has a relish for auld-world trumpery. After 



A VISIT AT ABBOTSFORD 45 

breakfast you shall make your visit to Melrose 
Abbey ; I shall not be able to accompany you, as 
I have some household affairs to attend to ; but 
I will put you in charge of my son Charles, who is 
very learned in all things touching the old ruin and 
the neighborhood it stands in ; and he and my 
friend Johnnie Bower will tell you the whole truth 
about it, with a great deal more that you are not 
called upon to believe, unless you be a true and 
nothing-doubting antiquary. When you come 
back, Fll take you out on a ramble about the 
neighborhood. To-morrow we will take a look at 
the Yarrow, and the next day we will drive over 
to Dryburgh Abbey, which is a fine old ruin, well 
worth your seeing." — In a word, before Scott had 
got through with his plan, I found myself committed 
for a visit of several days, and it seemed as if a little 
realm of romance was suddenly open before me. 

[After breakfast, while Scott, no doubt, wrote a chapter of 
Rob Roy, Mr. Irving, under young Charles's guidance, saw 
Melrose Abbey, and had much talk with old Bower, the 
showman of the ruins, who was eager to enlighten in all 
things the Sheriff's friends. "He'll come here sometimes," 
said Johnny, "with great folks in his company, and the first 
I'll know of it is his voice calling out i Johnny ! — Johnny 
Bower ! ' — and when I go out I'm sure to be greeted with a 
joke or a pleasant word. He'll stand an' crack an' laugh wi' 
me just like an auld wife — and to think that of a man that 
has such an awfu' knowledge o' history !" 

On his return from the Abbey, Irving found Scott ready 
for a ramble.] 



46 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

As we sallied forth, he writes, every dog in the 
establishment turned out to attend us. There was 
the old staghound, Maida, that I have already 
mentioned, a noble animal ; and Hamlet, the black 
greyhound, a wild, thoughtless youngster not yet 
arrived at the years of discretion ; and Finette, a 
beautiful setter, with soft, silken hair, long, pendant 
ears, and a mild eye, the parlor favorite. When 
in front of the house, we were joined by a super- 
annuated greyhound, who came from the kitchen 
wagging his tail ; and was cheered by Scott as an 
old friend and comrade. In our walks, he would 
frequently pause in conversation, to notice his 
dogs, and speak to them as if rational companions ; 
and, indeed, there appears to be a vast deal of 
rationality in these faithful attendants on man, 
derived from their close intimacy with him. 
Maida deported himself with a gravity becoming 
his age and size, and seemed to consider himself 
called upon to preserve a great degree of dignity 
and decorum in our society. As he jogged along 
a little distance ahead of us, the young dogs would 
gambol about him, leap on his neck, worry at his 
ears, and endeavor to tease him into a gambol. 
The old dog would keep on for a long time with 
imperturbable solemnity, now and then seeming 
to rebuke the wantonness of his young companions. 
At length he would make a sudden turn, seize 
one of them, and tumble him in the dust, then 



A VISIT AT ABBOTSFORD 47 

giving a glance at us, as much as to say, "You 
see, gentlemen, I can't help giving way to this 
nonsense/' would resume his gravity, and jog on 
as before. Scott amused himself with these pe- 
culiarities. "I make no doubt," said he, "when 
Maida is alone with these young dogs, he throws 
gravity aside, and plays the boy as much as any 
of them ; but he is ashamed to do so in our com- 
pany, and seems to say — ' Ha' done with your 
nonsense, youngsters ; what will the laird and that 
other gentleman think of me if I give way to such 
foolery?' Scott amused himself with the pe- 
culiarities of another of his dogs, a little shamefaced 
terrier, with large glassy eyes, one of the most 
sensitive little bodies to insult and indignity in 
the world. "If ever he whipped him," he said, 
"the little fellow would sneak off and hide himself 
from the light of day in a lumber garret, from 
whence there was no drawing him forth but by the 
sound of the chopping knife, as if chopping up 
his victuals, when he would steal forth with hu- 
miliated and downcast look, but would skulk away 
again if any one regarded him." — His domestic 
animals were his friends. Everything about him 
seemed to rejoice in the light of his countenance. 
Our ramble took us on the hills, commanding an 
extensive prospect. "Now," said Scott, "I have 
brought you, like the pilgrim in the ' Pilgrim's 
Progress,' to the top of the Delectable Mountains, 



48 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

that I may show you all the goodly regions here- 
abouts/ 5 ... I gazed about me for a time with 
mute surprise, I may almost say with disappoint- 
ment. I beheld a mere succession of gray waving 
hills, line beyond line, as far as my eye could reach, 
monotonous in their aspect, and so destitute of 
trees, that one could almost see a stout fly walking 
along their profile ; and the far-famed Tweed 
appeared a naked stream, flowing between bare 
hills, without a tree or thicket on its banks ; and 
yet such had been the magic web of poetry and 
romance thrown over the whole, that it had a 
greater charm for me than the richest scenery I 
had beheld in England. I could not help giving 
utterance to my thoughts. Scott hummed for a 
moment to himself, and looked grave ; he had no 
idea of having his muse complimented at the ex- 
pense of his native hills. " It may be pertinacity," 
said he, at length; "but to my eye, these gray 
hills, and all this wild border country, have beauties 
peculiar to themselves. I like the very nakedness 
of the land ; it has something bold, and stern, and 
solitary about it. When I have been for some time 
in the rich scenery about Edinburgh, which is like 
ornamented garden land, I begin to wish myself 
back again among my own honest gray hills ; and 
if I did not see the heather, at least once a year, 
I think I should die !" The last words were said 
with an honest warmth, accompanied by a thump 



A VISIT AT ABBOTSFORD 49 

on the ground with his staff, by way of emphasis, 
that showed his heart in his speech. He vindi- 
cated the Tweed, too, as a beautiful stream in 
itself, and observed, that he did not dislike it for 
being bare of trees, probably from having been 
much of an angler in his time ; and an angler does 
not like to have a stream overhung by trees, which 
embarrass him in the exercise of his rod and line. 
I took occasion to plead, in like manner, the as- 
sociations of early life for my disappointment in 
respect to the surrounding scenery. I had been 
so accustomed to see hills crowned with forests, 
and streams breaking their way through a wilder- 
ness of trees, that all my ideas of romantic land- 
scape were apt to be well wooded. "Ay, and that's 
the great charm of your country," cried Scott. 
"You love the forest as I do the heather; but I 
would not have you think I do not love the glory 
of a great woodland prospect. There is nothing 
I should like more than to be in the midst of one 
of your grand wild original forests, with the idea 
of hundreds of miles of untrodden forest around 
me. I once saw at Leith an immense stick of tim- 
ber just landed from America. It must have been 
an enormous tree when it stood in its native soil, 
at its full height, and with all its branches. I 
gazed at it with admiration ; it seemed like one of 
the gigantic obelisks which are now and then 
brought from Egypt to shame the pigmy monu- 



5<D AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

ments of Europe ; and, in fact, these vast aboriginal 
trees, that have sheltered the Indians before the 
intrusion of the white men, are the monuments 
and antiquities of your country/' . . . 

We had not walked much farther, before we saw 
the two Miss Scotts advancing along the hillside 
to meet us. The morning's studies being over, 
they had set off to take a ramble on the hills, and 
gather heather blossoms with which to decorate 
their hair for dinner. As they came bounding 
lightly like young fawns, and their dresses flutter- 
ing in the pure summer's breeze, I was reminded 
of Scott's own description of his children, in his 
introduction to one of the cantos of Marmion : — 

"My imps, though hardy, bold, and wild, 
As best befits the mountain child," etc. 

As they approached, the dogs all sprung forward, 
and gamboled around them. They joined us with 
countenances full of health and glee. Sophia, the 
eldest, was the most lively and joyous, having much 
of her father's varied spirit in conversation, and 
seeming to catch excitement from his words and 
looks ; Anne was of a quieter mood, rather silent, 
owing, in some measure, no doubt to her being 
some years younger. . . . 

One of my pleasantest rambles with Scott about 
the neighborhood of Abbotsford was taken in 
company with Mr. William Laidlaw, the steward 



A VISIT AT ABBOTSFORD 51 

of his estate. This was a gentleman for whom 
Scott entertained a particular value. He had been 
born to a competency, had been well educated, 
his mind was richly stored with varied informa- 
tion, and he was a man of sterling moral worth. 
Having been reduced by misfortune, Scott had got 
him to take charge of his estate. He lived at a 
small farm, on the hillside above Abbotsford, and 
was treated by Scott as a cherished and confidential 
friend rather than a dependant. That day at 
dinner we had Mr. Laidlaw and his wife, and a 
female friend who accompanied them. The latter 
was a very intelligent, respectable person, about 
the middle age, and was treated with particular 
attention and courtesy by Scott. Our dinner was 
a most agreeable one, for the guests were evidently 
cherished visitors to the house, and felt that they 
were appreciated. When they were gone, Scott 
spoke of them in the most cordial manner. "I 
wish to show you," said he, "some of our really 
excellent, plain Scotch people ; not fine gentlemen 
and ladies, for such you can meet everywhere, 
and they are everywhere the same. The charac- 
ter of a nation is not to be learnt from its fine 
folks." He then went on with a particular eulo- 
gium on the lady who had accompanied the Laid- 
laws. She was the daughter, he said, of a poor 
country clergyman, who had died in debt, and left 
her an orphan and destitute. Having had a good 



52 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE AUTHOR 

plain education, she immediately set up a child's 
school, and had soon a numerous flock under her 
care, by which she earned a decent maintenance. 
That, however, was not her main object. Her 
first care was to pay off her father's debts, that no 
ill word or ill will might rest upon his memory. 
This by dint of Scotch economy, backed by filial 
reverence and pride, she accomplished, though in 
the effort she subjected herself to every privation. 
Not content with this, she in certain instances 
refused to take pay for the tuition of the children 
of some of her neighbors, who had befriended 
her father in his need, and had since fallen into 
poverty. "In a word/' added Scott, " she's a 
fine old Scotch girl, and I delight in her more than 
in many a fine lady I have known, and I have 
known many of the finest." 

The evening having passed away delightfully 
in a quaint-looking apartment, half study, half 
drawing-room, Scott read several passages from 
the old Romance of Arthur, with a fine deep so- 
norous voice, and a gravity of tone that seemed to 
suit the antiquated black-letter volume. It was 
a rich treat to hear such a work read by such a 
person, and in such a place; and his appearance, 
as he sat reading, in a large armchair, with his 
favorite hound Maida at his feet, and surrounded 
by books and reliques and Border trophies, would 
have formed an admirable and most characteristic 



A VISIT AT ABBOTSFORD 53 

picture. When I retired for the night, I found it 
almost impossible to sleep : the idea of being under 
the roof of Scott ; of being on the Borders on the 
Tweed ; in the very center of that region which 
had, for some time past, been the favorite scene 
of romantic fiction ; and, above all, the recollec- 
tions of the ramble I had taken, the company in 
which I had taken it, and the conversation which 
had passed, all fermented in my mind, and nearly 
drove sleep from my pillow. 

On the following morning the sun darted his 
beams from over the hills through the low lattice 
of my window. I rose at an early hour, and 
looked out between the branches of eglantine 
which overhung the casement. To my surprise, 
Scott was already up, and forth, seated on a frag- 
ment of stone, and chatting with the workmen 
employed in the new building. I had supposed, 
after the time he had wasted upon me yesterday, 
he would be closely occupied this morning ; but 
he appeared like a man of leisure, who had nothing 
to do but bask in the sunshine and amuse himself. 
I soon dressed myself and joined him. He talked 
about his proposed plans of Abbotsford : happy 
would it have been for him could he have con- 
tented himself with his delightful little vine- 
covered cottage, and the simple, yet hearty and 
hospitable, style in which he lived at the time of 
my visit. 






SCOTT'S CAREER AS POET AND NOVELIST 



First Period. 



The Poems and the earliest Novels. 
1805-1815 



1805 
1808 
1810 
1811 
1812 
1813 
1814 
1815 



The Lay of the Last Minstrel. 
Marmion. 

The Lady of the Lake. 
The Vision of Don Roderick. 
Rokeby. 

The Bridal of Triermain. 
Waverley. 

The Lord of the Isles; Guy Mannering; 
The Field of Waterloo. 



Second Period, 



The Novels which established his fame. 
1816-1825 



1816. The Antiquary; The Black Dwarf; Old 

Mortality. 

1817. Harold the Dauntless; Rob Roy. 

1818. The Heart of Midlothian. 

1819. The Bride of Lammermoor; A Legend of 

Montrose ; Ivanhoe. 

1820. The Monastery; The Abbot. 

1821. Kenilworth; The Pirate. 

1822. The Fortunes of Nigel. 

1823. Peveril of the Peak; Quentin Durward; 

St. Ronan's Well. 

1824. Redgauntlet. 

1825. The Betrothed; The Talisman. 

54 



SCOTT'S CAREER AS POET AND NOVELIST 55 

Third Period. — The Novels and Tales written to retrieve his 

fortunes. 1 827-1 831 

1827. Woodstock; The Two Drovers; The High- 

land Widow; The Surgeon's Daughter. 

1828. Tales of a Grandfather; The Fair Maid 

of Perth; Anne of Geierstein. 
1831. Castle Dangerous; Count Robert of Paris. 





56 



TALES AND VERSE 

SIR KENNETH AND THE SARACEN 

[A Scottish knight, on his way to Syria, to bear his part 
in the Third Crusade, encounters a Saracen warrior, of the 
forces of the Sultan Saladin.] 

The burning sun of Syria had not yet attained 
its highest point in the horizon, when a knight of 
the Red Cross, 1 who had left his distant northern 
home, and joined the host of the Crusaders in 
Palestine, was pacing slowly along the sandy 
deserts which lie in the vicinity of the Dead Sea, 
where the waves of the Jordan pour themselves 
into an inland sea, from which there is no dis- 
charge of waters. 

The warlike pilgrim had toiled among cliffs 
and precipices during the earlier part of the morn- 
ing ; more lately, issuing from those rocky and 
dangerous defiles, he had entered upon that great 
plain, where the accursed cities 2 provoked, in 
ancient days, the direct and dreadful vengeance of 
the Omnipotent. 

The toil, the thirst, the dangers of the way 

1 The red cross was the symbol of the Crusaders. 

2 Sodom and Gomorrah. See Genesis xix, verses 23 and 24. 

57 



58 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

were forgotten, as the traveler recalled the fearful 
catastrophe, which had converted into an arid 
and dismal wilderness the fair and fertile valley 
of Siddim, once well watered, even as the Garden 
of the Lord, now a parched and blighted waste, 
condemned to eternal sterility. 

Crossing himself, as he viewed the dark mass of 
rolling waters, in color as in quality unlike those 
of every other lake, the traveler shuddered as he 
remembered, that beneath these sluggish waves 
lay the once proud cities of the plain, whose grave 
was dug by the thunder of the heavens, or the 
eruption of subterraneous fire ; and whose remains 
were hid, even by that sea which holds no living 
fish in its bosom, bears no skiff on its surface, and, 
as if its own dreadful bed were the only fit recep- 
tacle for its sullen waters, sends not, like other 
lakes, a tribute to the ocean. The whole land 
around, as in the days of Moses, was "brimstone 
and salt ; it is not sown, nor beareth, nor any grass 
groweth thereon" ; the land as well as the lake 
might be termed dead. 

Upon this scene of desolation the sun shone with 
almost intolerable splendor, and all living nature 
seemed to have hidden itself from the rays, except- 
ing the solitary figure which moved through the 
flitting sand at a foot's pace, and appeared the 
sole breathing thing on the wide surface of the 
plain. The dress of the rider, and the accouter- 



SIR KENNETH AND THE SARACEN 59 

ments of his horse, were peculiarly unfit for the 
traveler in such a country. A coat of linked 
mail, with long sleeves, plated gauntlets, and a 
steel breastplate, had not been esteemed a suffi- 
cient weight of armor ; there was also his trian- 
gular shield suspended round his neck, and his 
barred helmet of steel, over which he had a hood 
and collar of mail, which was drawn around the 
warrior's shoulders and throat, and filled up the 
vacancy between the hauberk and the head piece. 
His lower limbs were sheathed, like his body, in 
flexible mail, securing the legs and thighs, while 
the feet rested in plated shoes, which corresponded 
with the gauntlets. A long, broad, straight-shaped, 
double-edged falchion, with a handle formed like 
a cross, corresponded with a stout poniard on the 
other side. The knight also bore, secured to his 
saddle, with one end resting on his stirrup, the 
long, steel-headed lance, his own proper weapon, 
which, as he rode, projected backwards, and dis- 
played its little pennoncel, to dally with the 
faint breeze, or drop in the dead calm. To this 
cumbrous equipment must be added a surcoat of 
embroidered cloth, much frayed and worn, which 
was thus far useful, that it excluded the burning 
rays of the sun from the armor, which they would 
otherwise have rendered intolerable to the wearer. 
The surcoat bore, in several places, the arms of 
the owner, although much defaced. These seemed 



60 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

to be a couchant leopard, with the motto, "I 
sleep — wake me not." An outline of the same 
device might be traced on his shield, though many 
a blow had almost effaced the painting. The flat 
top of his cumbrous cylindrical helmet was un- 
adorned with any crest. In retaining their own 
unwieldy defensive armor, the northern Crusaders 
seemed to set at defiance the nature of the climate 
and country to which they had come to war. 

The accouterments of the horse were scarcely less 
massive and unwieldy than those of the rider. 
The animal had a heavy saddle plated with steel, 
uniting in front with a species of breastplate, and 
behind with defensive armor made to cover the 
loins. Then there was a steel ax, or hammer, 
called a mace of arms, and which hung to the 
saddlebow ; the reins were secured by chainwork, 
and the front stall of the bridle was a steel plate, 
with apertures for the eyes and nostrils, having 
in the midst a short, sharp pike, projecting from the 
forehead of the horse like the horn of the fabulous 
unicorn. 

But habit had made the endurance of this load 
of panoply a second nature, both to the knight and 
his gallant charger. Numbers, indeed, of the 
Western warriors who hurried to Palestine died 
ere they became inured to the burning climate ; 
but there were others to whom that climate be- 
came innocent and even friendly, and among this 



SIR KENNETH AND THE SARACEN 61 

fortunate number was the solitary horseman who 
now traversed the border of the Dead Sea. 

Nature, which cast his limbs in a mold of un- 
common strength, fitted to wear his linked hau- 
berk with as much ease as if the meshes had been 
formed of cobwebs, had endowed him with a con- 
stitution as strong as his limbs, and which bade 
defiance to almost all changes of climate, as well 
as to fatigue and privations of every kind. His 
disposition seemed, in some degree, to partake of 
the qualities of his bodily frame ; and as the one 
possessed great strength and endurance, united 
with the power of violent exertion, the other, under 
a calm and undisturbed semblance, had much of 
the fiery and enthusiastic love of glory which con- 
stituted the principal attribute of the renowned 
Norman line, 1 and had rendered them sovereigns 
in every corner of Europe where they had drawn 
their adventurous swords. 

It was not, however, to all the race that fortune 
proposed such tempting rewards ; and those ob- 
tained by the solitary knight during two years' 
campaign in Palestine had been only temporal 
fame, and, as he was taught to believe, spiritual 
privileges. Meantime, his slender stock of money 
had melted away, the rather that he did not 
pursue any of the ordinary modes by which 

1 The Northmen, or Normans, came originally from Scandinavia, i.e., 
from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. 



62 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

the followers of the Crusade condescended to 
recruit their diminished resources, at the expense 
of the people of Palestine ; he exacted no gifts 
from the wretched natives for sparing their pos- 
sessions when engaged in warfare with the Saracens, 
and he had not availed himself of any opportunity 
of enriching himself by the ransom of prisoners of 
consequence. The small train which had followed 
him from his native country had been gradually 
diminished, as the means of maintaining them dis- 
appeared, and his only remaining squire was at 
present on a sick bed, and unable to attend his 
master, who traveled, as we have seen, singly and 
alone. This was of little consequence to the Cru- 
sader, who was accustomed to consider his good 
sword as his safest escort, and devout thoughts as 
his best companion. 

Nature had, however, her demands for refresh- 
ments and repose, even on the iron frame and 
patient disposition of the Knight of the Sleeping 
Leopard ; and at noon, when the Dead Sea lay 
at some distance on his right, he joyfully hailed 
the sight of two or three palm trees, which arose 
beside the well which was assigned for his mid day 
station. His good horse, too, which had plodded 
forward with the steady endurance of his master, 
now lifted his head, expanded his nostrils, and 
quickened his pace, as if he snuffed afar off the 
living waters, which marked the place of repose 



SIR KENNETH AND THE SARACEN 63 

and refreshment. But labor and danger were 
doomed to intervene ere the horse or horseman 
reached the desired spot. 

As the Knight of the Couchant Leopard con- 
tinued to fix his eyes attentively on the yet distant 
cluster of palm trees, it seemed to him as if some 
object was moving among them. The distant 
form separated itself from the trees, which partly 
hid its motions, and advanced towards the knight 
with a speed which soon showed a mounted horse- 
man, whom his turban, long spear, and green caftan 
floating in the wind, on his nearer approach, showed 
to be a Saracen cavalier. "In the desert," saith 
an Eastern proverb, "no man meets a friend." 
The Crusader was totally indifferent whether the 
infidel, who now approached on his gallant barb, 
as if borne on the wings of an eagle, came as friend 
or foe — perhaps, as a vowed champion of the 
Cross, he might rather have preferred the latter. 
He disengaged his lance from his saddle, seized 
it with the right hand, placed it in rest with its 
point half elevated, gathered up the reins in the 
left, waked his horse's mettle with the spur, and 
prepared to encounter the stranger, with the calm 
self-confidence belonging to the victor in many 
contests. 

The Saracen came on at the speedy gallop of 
an Arab horseman, managing his steed more by 
his limbs, and the inflection of his body, than by 



64 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

any use of the reins, which hung loose in his left 
hand ; so that he was enabled to wield the light 
round buckler of the skin of the rhinoceros, or- 
namented with silver loops, which he wore on his 
arm, swinging it as if he meant to oppose its slen- 
der circle to the formidable thrust of the Western 
lance. His own long spear was not couched or 
leveled like that of his antagonist, but grasped 
by the middle with his right hand, and brandished 
at arm's length above his head. As the cavalier 
approached his enemy at full career, he seemed to 
expect that the Knight of the Leopard should put 
his horse to the gallop to encounter him. But the 
Christian knight, well acquainted with the customs 
of Eastern warriors, did not mean to exhaust his 
good horse by any unnecessary exertion ; and, on 
the contrary, made a dead halt, confident that, if 
the enemy advanced to the actual shock, his own 
weight, and that of his powerful charger, would 
give him sufficient advantage, without the addi- 
tional momentum of rapid motion. Equally sen- 
sible and apprehensive of such a probable result, 
the Saracen cavalier, when he had approached 
towards the Christian within twice the length of 
his lance, wheeled his steed to the left with inimi- 
table dexterity, and rode twice round his antago- 
nist, who, turning without quitting his ground, and 
presenting his front constantly to his enemy, frus- 
trated his attempts to attack him on an unguarded 



SIR KENNETH AND THE SARACEN 65 

point ; so that the Saracen, wheeling his horse, 
was fain to retreat to the distance of a hundred 
yards. A second time, like a hawk attacking a 
heron, the heathen renewed the charge, and a 
second time was fain to retreat without coming to 
1 a close struggle. A third time he approached in 
the same manner, when the Christian knight, de- 
sirous to terminate this elusory warfare, in which 
he might at length have been worn out by the 
activity of his foeman, suddenly seized the mace 
which hung at his saddlebow, and, with a strong 
hand and unerring aim, hurled it against the head 
of the Emir, 1 for such and not less his enemy ap- 
peared. The Saracen was just aware of the for- 
midable missile in time to interpose his light 
buckler betwixt the mace and his head ; but the 
violence of the blow forced the buckler down on 
his turban, and though that defense also contrib- 
uted to deaden its violence, the Saracen was 
beaten from his horse. Ere the Christian could 
avail himself of this mishap, his nimble foeman 
sprung from the ground, and, calling on his steed, 
which instantly returned to his side, he leaped 
into his seat without touching the stirrup, and 
regained all the advantage of which the Knight 
of the Leopard hoped to deprive him. But the 
latter had in the meanwhile recovered his mace, 
and the Eastern cavalier, who remembered the 

X A ruling prince; a chief officer. 



66 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

strength and dexterity with which his antagonist 
had aimed it, seemed to keep cautiously out of 
reach of that weapon, of which he had so lately 
felt the force, while he showed his purpose of 
waging a distant warfare with missile weapons of 
his own. Planting his long spear in the sand at 
a distance from the scene of combat, he strung, 
with great address, a short bow, which he carried 
at his back, and putting his horse to the gallop, 
once more described two or three circles of a wider 
extent than formerly, in the course of which he 
discharged six arrows at the Christian with such 
unerring skill, that the goodness of his harness 
alone saved him from being wounded in as many 
places. The seventh shaft apparently found a 
less perfect part of the armor, and the Christian 
dropped heavily from his horse. But what was 
the surprise of the Saracen, when, dismounting to 
examine the condition of his prostrate enemy, he 
found himself suddenly within the grasp of the 
European, who had had recourse to this artifice 
to bring his enemy within his reach ! Even in 
this deadly grapple, the Saracen was saved by his 
agility and presence of mind. He unloosed the 
sword belt, in which the Knight of the Leopard 
had fixed his hold, and, thus eluding his fatal 
grasp, mounted his horse, which seemed to watch 
his motions with the intelligence of a human 
being, and again rode off. But in the last en- 



SIR KENNETH AND THE SARACEN 67 

counter the Saracen had lost his sword and his 
quiver of arrows, both of which were attached to 
the girdle, which he was obliged to abandon. He 
had also lost his turban in the struggle. These 
disadvantages seemed to incline the Moslem to a 
truce : he approached the Christian with his right 
hand extended, but no longer in a menacing at- 
titude. 

"There is truce betwixt our nations, " he said, 
in the lingua franca 1 commonly used for the pur- 
pose of communication with the Crusaders ; 
"wherefore should there be war betwixt thee 
and me ? — Let there be peace betwixt us." 

"I am well contented," answered he of the 
Couchant Leopard ; "but what security dost thou 
offer that thou wilt observe the truce ?'' 

"The word of a follower of the Prophet was 
never broken," answered the Emir. "It is thou, 
brave Nazarene, from whom I should demand 
security, did I not know that treason seldom 
dwells with courage." 

The Crusader felt that the confidence of the 
Moslem made him ashamed of his own doubts. 

"By the cross of my sword," he said, laying his 
hand on the weapon as he spoke, "I will be true 
companion to thee, Saracen, while our fortune 
wills that we remain in company together." 

"By Mahommed, Prophet of God, and by 

1 French tongue, i.e., the language of the Franks or the Europeans. 



68 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Allah, God of the Prophet/' replied his late foe- 
man, "there is not treachery in my heart towards 
thee. And now wend we to yonder fountain, 
for the hour of rest is at hand, and the stream 
had hardly touched my lip when I was called to 
battle by thy approach." 

The Knight of the Couchant Leopard yielded 
a ready and courteous assent ; and the late foes, 
without an angry look, or gesture of doubt, rode 
side by side to the little cluster of palm trees. 

From " The Talisman." 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 

[Conrade of Montserrat, an ambitious and disaffected mem- 
ber of the Council of the Princes of the Crusade, offered an 
affront to King Richard, to avenge which a combat was 
arranged between Sir Kenneth, the King's champion, and 
the offending Conrade. The Sultan Saladin, who was in 
love with Edith, kinswoman to King Richard, promised 
"safe conduct to all who might choose to witness the combat, 
and offered his own person as a guarantee of his fidelity." 
The station, called the Diamond of the Desert, at nearly an 
equal distance between the Christian and the Saracen camps, 
was chosen for the combat. This is the story of the meeting 
between the King and the Sultan. On the day following 
Kenneth overcame the disloyal Conrade.] 

On the day before that appointed for the com- 
bat, Conrade and his friends set off by daybreak 
to repair to the place assigned, and Richard left 
the camp at the same hour, and for the same 
purpose ; but, as had been agreed upon, he took 
his journey by a different route, a precaution which 
had been judged necessary to prevent the possi- 
bility of a quarrel betwixt their armed attendants. 

The good King himself was in no humor for 
quarreling with any one. Nothing could have 
added to his pleasurable anticipations of a des- 
perate and bloody combat in the lists, except his 
being in his own royal person one of the combat- 
ants ; and he was half in charity again even with 

6 9 



70 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Conrade of Montserrat. Lightly armed, richly 
dressed, and gay as a bridegroom on the eve of 
his nuptials, Richard caracoled along by the side 
of Queen Berengaria's litter, pointing out to her 
the various scenes through which they passed, and 
cheering with tale and song the bosom of the in- 
hospitable wilderness. The former route of the 
Queen's pilgrimage to Engaddi * had been on the 
other side of the chain of mountains, so that the 
ladies were strangers to the scenery of the desert ; 
and though Berengaria knew her husband's dis- 
position too well not to endeavor to seem in- 
terested in what he was pleased either to say or 
to sing, she could not help indulging some female 
fears when she found herself in the howling wilder- 
ness with so small an escort, which seemed almost 
like a moving speck on the bosom of the plain, 
and knew, at the same time, they were not so 
distant from the camp of Saladin but what they 
might be in a moment surprised and swept off by 
an overpowering host of his fiery- footed cavalry, 
should the pagan be faithless enough to embrace 
an opportunity thus tempting. But when she 
hinted these suspicions to Richard, he repelled 
them with displeasure and disdain. "It were 
worse than ingratitude/' he said, "to doubt the 
good faith of the generous Soldan." 

1 Engedi, or Ain-Jidy, is an ancient town of Palestine, on the border of 
the Dead Sea. 




Statue of King Richard I 



7i 



72 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Yet the same doubts and fears recurred more 
than once, not to the timid mind of the Queen 
alone, but to the firmer and more candid soul 
of Edith Plantagenet, who had no such confidence 
in the faith of the Moslem as to render her per- 
fectly at ease when so much in their power ; and 
her surprise had been far less than her terror, if 
the desert around had suddenly resounded with the 
shout of Alia hu ! and a band of Arab cavalry had 
pounced on them like vultures on their prey. Nor 
were these suspicions lessened, when, as evening 
approached, they were aware of a single Arab 
horseman, distinguished by his turban and long 
lance, hovering on the edge of a small eminence 
like a hawk poised in the air, and who instantly, 
on the appearance of the royal retinue, darted 
off with the speed of the same bird, when it shoots 
down the wind and disappears from the horizon. 

"We must be near the station," said King 
Richard ; "and yonder cavalier is one of Saladin's 
outposts — methinks I hear the noise of the 
Moorish horns and cymbals. Get you into order, 
my hearts, and form yourselves around the ladies 
soldier-like and firmly." 

As he spoke, each knight, squire, and archer, 
hastily closed in upon his appointed ground, and 
they proceeded in the most compact order, which 
made their numbers appear still smaller ; and 
to say the truth, though there might be no fear, 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 73 

there was anxiety as well as curiosity in the atten- 
tion with which they listened to the wild bursts 
of Moorish music, which came ever and anon 
more distinctly from the quarter in which the 
Arab horseman had been seen to disappear. 

De Vaux spoke in a whisper to the King — 
"Were it not well, my liege, to send a page to 
the top of that sand bank ? Or would it stand 
with your pleasure that I prick forward ? Me- 
thinks, by all yonder clash and clang, if there be 
no more than five hundred men beyond the sand 
hills, half of the Soldan's retinue must be drum- 
mers and cymbal tossers. — Shall I spur on ?" 

The baron had checked his horse with the bit, 
and was just about to strike him with the spurs, 
when the King exclaimed: "Not for the world. 
Such a caution would express suspicion, and 
could do little to prevent surprise, which, how- 
ever, I apprehend not/' 

They advanced accordingly in close and firm 
order till they surmounted the line of low sand- 
hills, and came in sight of the appointed station, 
when a splendid, but at the same time a startling, 
spectacle awaited them. 

The Diamond of the Desert, so lately a solitary 
fountain, distinguished only amid the waste by 
solitary groups of palm trees, was now the center 
of an encampment, the embroidered flags and 
gilded ornaments of which glittered far and wide, 



74 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

and reflected a thousand rich tints against the 
setting sun. The coverings of the large pavilions 
were of the gayest colors, — scarlet, bright yellow, 
pale blue, and other gaudy and gleaming hues, — 
and the tops of their pillars, or tent poles, were 
decorated with golden pomegranates and small 
silken flags. But, besides these distinguished 
pavilions, there were, what Thomas de Vaux 
considered as a portentous number of the ordinary 
black tents of the Arabs, being sufficient, as he 
conceived, to accommodate, according to the 
Eastern fashion, a host of five thousand men. A 
number of Arabs and Curds, fully corresponding 
to the extent of the encampment, were hastily 
assembling, each leading his horse in his hand, 
and their muster was accompanied by an as- 
tonishing clamor of their noisy instruments of 
martial music, by which, in all ages, the warfare 
of the Arabs has been animated. 

They soon formed a deep and confused mass of 
dismounted cavalry in front of their encamp- 
ment, when at the signal of a shrill cry, which 
arose high over the clangor of the music, each 
cavalier sprung to his saddle. A cloud of dust, 
arising at the moment of this maneuver, hid 
from Richard and his attendants the camp, the 
palm trees, and the distant ridge of mountains, 
as well as the troops whose sudden movement had 
raised the cloud, and ascending high over their 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 75 

heads, formed itself into the fantastic forms of 
writhed pillars, domes, and minarets. Another 
shrill yell was heard from the bosom of this cloudy 
tabernacle. It was the signal for the cavalry to 
advance, which they did at full gallop, disposing 
themselves as they came forward, so as to come in 
at once on the front, flanks, and rear, of Richard's 
little body guard, who were thus surrounded, and 
almost choked, by the dense clouds of dust envelop- 
ing them on each side, through which were seen 
alternately, and lost, the grim forms and wild 
faces of the Saracens, brandishing and tossing 
their lances in every possible direction, with the 
wildest cries and halloos, and frequently only 
reining up their horses when within a spear's 
length of the Christians, while those in the rear 
discharged over the heads of both parties thick 
volleys of arrows. One of these struck the litter 
in which the Queen was seated, who loudly 
screamed, and the red spot was on Richard's 
brow in an instant. 

"Ha! Saint George," he exclaimed, "we must 
take some order with this infidel scum !" 

But Edith, whose litter was near, thrust her 
head out, and with her hand holding one of the 
shafts, exclaimed, "Royal Richard, beware what 
you do ! see, these arrows are headless V s 

"Noble, sensible wench!' 5 exclaimed Richard; 
"by Heaven, thou shamest us all by thy readi- 



76 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

ness of thought and eye. — Be not moved, my 
English hearts/' he exclaimed, to his followers, 
"their arrows have no heads, and their spears, 
too, lack the steel points. It is but a wild welcome, 
after their savage fashion, though doubtless they 
would rejoice to see us daunted or disturbed. 
Move onward, slow and steady/' 

The little phalanx moved forward accordingly, 
accompanied on all sides by the Arabs, with the 
shrillest and most piercing cries, the bowmen, 
meanwhile, displaying their agility by shooting 
as near the crests of the Christians as was pos- 
sible, without actually hitting them, while the 
lancers charged each other with such rude blows 
of their blunt weapons, that more than one of 
them lost his saddle, and well-nigh his life, in 
this rough sport. All this, though designed to 
express welcome, had rather a doubtful appearance 
in the eyes of the Europeans. 

As they had advanced nearly halfway towards 
the camp, King Richard and his suite forming, 
as it were, the nucleus round which this tumultuary 
body of horsemen howled, whooped, skirmished, 
and galloped, creating a scene of indescribable 
confusion, another shrill cry was heard, on which 
all these irregulars, who were on the front and 
upon the flanks of the little body of Europeans, 
wheeled off, and forming themselves into a long 
and deep column, followed with comparative 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS yy 

order and silence in the rear of Richard's troop. 
The dust began now to dissipate in their front, 
when there advanced to meet them, through 
that cloudy veil, a body of cavalry of a different 
and more regular description, completely armed 
with offensive and defensive weapons, and who 
might well have served as a bodyguard to the 
proudest of Eastern monarchs. This splendid 
troop consisted of five hundred men, and each 
horse which it contained was worth an earl's 
ransom. The riders were Georgian and Cir- 
cassian x slaves in the very prime of life ; their 
helmets and hauberks were formed of steel rings, 
so bright that they shone like silver ; their ves- 
tures were of the gayest colors, and some of 
cloth of gold or silver ; the sashes were twisted 
with silk and gold, their rich turbans were plumed 
and jeweled, and their sabers and poniards, of 
Damascene steel, were adorned with gold and 
gems on hilt and scabbard. 

This splendid array advanced to the sound of 
military music, and when they met the Christian 
body, they opened their files to the right and left, 
and let them enter between their ranks. Richard 
now assumed the foremost place in his troop, 
aware that Saladin himself was approaching. 
Nor was it long when, in the center of his body- 

1 Georgia and Circassia are provinces near the Caucasus Mountains. 
The Georgians are a very handsome race of the purest Caucasian type. 



78 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

guard, surrounded by his domestic officers, and 
those hideous negroes who guard the Eastern 
harem, and whose misshapen forms were rendered 
yet more frightful by the richness of their attire, 
came the Soldan, with the look and manners of 
one on whose brow Nature had written, This is 
a king ! In his snow-white turban, vest, and 
wide Eastern trousers, wearing a sash of scarlet 
silk, without any other ornament, Saladin might 
have seemed the plainest dressed man in his own 
guard. But closer inspection discerned in his 
turban that inestimable gem, which was called 
by the poets, the Sea of Light ; the diamond on 
which his signet was engraved, and which he 
wore in a ring, was probably worth all the jewels 
of the English crown, and a sapphire, which ter- 
minated the hilt of his canjiar, 1 was not of much 
inferior value. It should be added, that to pro- 
tect him from the dust, which in the vicinity of 
the Dead Sea resembles the finest ashes, or per- 
haps out of Oriental pride, the Soldan wore a 
sort of veil attached to his turban, which partly 
obscured the view of his noble features. He rode 
a milk-white Arabian, which bore him as if con- 
scious and proud of his noble burden. 

There was no need of further introduction. 
The two heroic monarchs, for such they both 
were, threw themselves at once from horseback, 

1 A long, heavy knife, used in Syria. 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 



79 



and, the troops halting and the music suddenly 
ceasing, they advanced to meet each other in 
profound silence ; and, after a courteous inclina- 
tion on either side, they embraced as brethren 
and equals. The pomp and display upon both 
sides attracted no further notice — no one saw 
aught save Richard and Saladin, and they two 
beheld nothing but each other. The looks with 
which Richard surveyed Saladin were, however, 
more intently curious than those which the Soldan 
fixed upon him ; and the Soldan also was the 
first to break silence. 

"The Melech Ric 1 is welcome to Saladin as 
water to this desert ! I trust he hath no distrust 
of this numerous array ? Excepting the armed 
slaves of my household, those who surround you 
with eyes of wonder and of welcome are, even the 
humblest of them, the privileged nobles of my 
thousand tribes ; for who that could claim a 
title to be present would remain at home when 
such a prince was to be seen as Richard, with 
the terrors of whose name, even on the sands of 
Yemen, the nurse stills her child, and the free 
Arab subdues his restive steed !" 

"And these are all nobles of Araby ? ,J said 
Richard, looking around on wild forms with their 
persons covered with haicks, 2 their countenances 

1 King Richard. 

2 Pieces of cotton or woolen cloth, worn by the Arabs as outer garments. 



80 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

swart with the sunbeams, their teeth as white as 
ivory, their black eyes glancing with fierce and 
preternatural luster from under the shade of their 
turbans, and their dress being in general simple, 
even to meanness. 

"They claim such rank," said Saladin ; 'but 
though numerous, they are within the conditions 
of the treaty, and bear no arms but the saber 
— even the iron of their lances is left behind." 

"I fear," muttered De Vaux in English, "they 
have left them where they can be soon found. — 
A most flourishing House of Peers, I confess, and 
would find Westminster Hall something too nar- 
row for them." 

"Hush, De Vaux," said Richard, "I command 
thee. — Noble Saladin," he said, "suspicion and 
thou cannot exist on the same ground. — Seest 
thou," pointing to the litters, "I too have brought 
some champions with me, though armed, per- 
haps, in breach of agreement, for bright eyes 
and fair features are weapons which cannot be 
left behind." 

The Soldan, turning to the litters, made an 
obeisance as lowly as if looking towards Mecca, 
and kissed the sand in token of respect. 

"Nay," said Richard, "they will not fear a 
closer encounter, brother ; wilt thou not ride 
towards their litters, and the curtains will be 
presently withdrawn ?" 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 8 1 

'That may Allah prohibit \" said Saladin, 
" since not an Arab looks on, who would not think 
it shame to the noble ladies to be seen with their 
faces uncovered/' 

'Thou shalt see them, then, in private, my royal 
brother," answered Richard. 

'To what purpose ?." answered Saladin, mourn- 
fully. "Thy last letter was, to the hopes which 
I had entertained, like water to fire ; and where- 
fore should I again light a flame, which may indeed 
consume, but cannot cheer me ? — But will not 
my brother pass to the tent which his servant 
hath prepared for him ? My principal black 
slave hath taken order for the reception of the 
princesses — the officers of my household will 
attend your followers, and ourself will be the 
chamberlain of the royal Richard." 

He led the way accordingly to a splendid pa- 
vilion, where was everything that royal luxury 
could devise. De Vaux, who was in attendance, 
then removed the chappe, or long riding cloak 
which Richard wore, and he stood before Saladin 
in the close dress which showed to advantage the 
strength and symmetry of his person, while it bore 
a strong contrast to the flowing robes which dis- 
guised the thin frame of the Eastern monarch. 
It was Richard's two-handed sword that chiefly 
attracted the attention of the Saracen, a broad, 
straight blade, the seemingly unwieldy length of 



82 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

which extended well-nigh from the shoulder to 
the heel of the wearer. 

"Had I not/' said Saladin, "seen this brand 
flaming in the front of battle, like that of Azrael, 1 
I had scarce believed that human arm could wield 
it. Might I request to see the Melech Ric strike 
one blow with it in peace, and in pure trial of 
strength ?" 

"Willingly, noble Saladin," answered Richard; 
and looking around for something whereon to 
exercise his strength, he saw a steel mace, held 
by one of the attendants, the handle being of 
the same metal, and about an inch and a half in 
diameter ; this he placed on a block of wood. 

The anxiety of De Vaux for his master's honor 
led him to whisper in English, "For the blessed 
Virgin's sake, beware what you attempt, my liege ! 
Your full strength is not as yet returned, 2 give 
no triumph to the infidel." 

"Peace, fool !' 3 said Richard, standing firm on 
his ground, and casting a fierce glance around ; 
"thinkest thou that I can fail in his presence ?' 

The glittering broadsword, wielded by both 
his hands, rose aloft to the King's left shoulder, 
circled round his head, descended with the sway 
of some terrific engine, and the bar of iron rolled 

1 The angel who separates the soul from the body in the Jewish and 
Mohammedan faiths. 

2 Richard had recently been ill. 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 83 

on the ground in two pieces, as a woodsman 
would sever a sapling with a hedging bill. 

"By the head of the Prophet, a most wonderful 
blow !" said the Soldan, critically and accurately 
examining the iron bar which had been cut asun- 
der ; and the blade of the sword was so well 
tempered as to exhibit not the least token of having 
suffered by the feat it had performed. He then 
took the King's hand, and, looking on the size 
and muscular strength which it exhibited, laughed 
as he placed it beside his own, so lank and thin, 
so inferior in brawn and sinew. 

"Ay, look well/ 5 said De Vaux in English ; "it 
will be long ere your long jackanape's fingers 
do such a feat with your fine gilded reaping hook 
there." 

"Silence, De Vaux," said Richard; "by Our 
Lady, he understands or guesses thy meaning — 
be not so broad, I pray thee." 

The Soldan indeed presently said, "Something 
I would fain attempt — though, wherefore should 
the weak show their inferiority in presence of the 
strong ? Yet, each land hath its own exercises, 
and this may be new to the Melech Ric." — So 
saying, he took from the floor a cushion of silk 
and down, and placed it upright on one end. 
"Can thy weapon, my brother, sever that cush- 
ion ?" he said to King Richard. 

"No, surely," replied the King; "no sword 



84 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

on earth, were it the Excalibur of King Arthur, 
can cut that which opposes no steady resistance 
to the blow." 

"Mark, then," said Saladin ; and, tucking up 
the sleeve of his gown, showed his arm, thin in- 
deed and spare, but which constant exercise had 
hardened into a mass consisting of nought but 
bone, brawn, and sinew. He unsheathed his 
scimitar, a curved and narrow blade, which 
glittered not like the swords of the Franks, but 
was, on the contrary, of a dull blue color, marked 
with ten millions of meandering lines, which showed 
how anxiously the metal had been welded by the 
armorer. Wielding this weapon, apparently so 
inefficient when compared to that of Richard, the 
Soldan stood resting his weight upon his left foot, 
which was slightly advanced ; he balanced him- 
self a little as if to steady his aim, then stepping 
at once forward, drew the scimitar across the 
cushion, applying the edge so dexterously, and 
with so little apparent effort, that the cushion 
seemed rather to fall asunder than to be divided 
by violence. 

"It is a juggler's trick," said De Vaux, darting 
forward and snatching up the portion of the 
cushion which had been cut off, as if to assure 
himself of the reality of the feat ; "there is gram- 
arye l in this." 

1 Magic, enchantment. 



THE TRIAL OF THE SWORDS 85 

The Soldan seemed to comprehend him, for he 
undid the sort of veil which he had hitherto worn, 
laid it double along the edge of his saber, ex- 
tended the weapon edgeways in the air, and draw- 
ing it suddenly through the veil, although it hung 
on the blade entirely loose, severed that also in 
two parts, which floated to different sides of the 
tent, equally displaying the extreme temper and 
sharpness of the weapon, and the exquisite dex- 
terity of him who used it. 

"Now, in good faith, my brother," said Richard, 
"thou art even matchless at the trick of the 
sword, and right perilous it were to meet thee ! 
Still, however, I put some faith in a downright 
English blow ; and what we cannot do by sleight, 
we eke out by strength." 

From "The Talisman." 



THE TOURNAMENT 

[King Richard has gone on a crusade to the Holy Land, and 
the country, during his absence, is ruled over by his brother, 
Prince John. 

It is a time of many feuds between Saxon and Norman 
nobles. Cedric and Athelstane are of Saxon birth ; de Bois 
Guilbert, Front de Boeuf, and de Bracy, favorites of Prince 
John, are Normans. 

Near the town of Ashby a passage of arms between some 
Norman knights templars has occurred. After several 
encounters, the conquerors challenge any other knights 
present to meet them. 

The three selections give accounts of the resulting jousts 
between Norman and Saxon knights, of the general combat, 
and of the archery contest on the second day.] 

The lists now presented a most splendid spec- 
tacle. The sloping galleries were crowded with 
all that was noble, great, wealthy, and beautiful, 
in the northern and midland parts of England ; 
and the contrast of the various dresses of these 
dignified spectators rendered the view as gay as 
it was rich, while the interior and lower space, 
filled with the substantial burgesses and yeomen 
of merry England, formed, in their more plain 
attire, a dark fringe, or border, around this circle 
of brilliant embroidery, relieving, and, at the 
same time, setting off its splendor. 

The heralds finished their proclamation with 

86 



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$M i 


ll[~~2f 


&2s ^* JpK^i " MM 


jplpi 




Kr idfl 





88 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

their usual cry of "Largesse, largesse, gallant 
knights \" and gold and silver pieces were showered 
on them from the galleries, it being a high point 
of chivalry to exhibit liberality towards those 
whom the age accounted at once the secretaries 
and the historians of honor. The bounty of 
the spectators was acknowledged by the customary 
shouts of "Love of Ladies — Death of Champions 
— Honor to the Generous — Glory to the 
Brave ! ,J To which the more humble spectators 
added their acclamations, and a numerous band 
of trumpeters the flourish of their martial instru- 
ments. When these sounds had ceased, the heralds 
withdrew from the lists in gay and glittering pro- 
cession, and none remained within them save the 
marshals of the field, who, armed cap-a-pie, sat 
on horseback, motionless as statues, at the opposite 
ends of the lists. Meantime, the inclosed space at 
the northern extremity of the lists, large as it 
was, was now completely crowded with knights 
desirous to prove their skill against the challengers, 
and, when viewed from the galleries, presented the 
appearance of a sea of waving plumage, inter- 
mixed with glistening helmets, and tall lances, 
to the extremities of which were, in many cases, 
attached small pennons of about a span's breadth, 
which, fluttering in the air as the breeze caught 
them, joined with the restless motion of the 
feathers to add liveliness to the scene. 



THE TOURNAMENT 89 

At length the barriers were opened, and five 
knights, chosen by lot, advanced slowly into the 
area ; a single champion riding in front, and the 
other four following in pairs. All were splendidly 
armed, and my Saxon authority (in the Wardour 
Manuscript) records at great length their devices, 
their colors, and the embroidery of their horse 
trappings. It is unnecessary to be particular on 
these subjects. To borrow lines from a contem- 
porary poet, who has written but too little — 

"The knights are dust, 
And their good swords are rust, 
Their souls are with the saints, we trust." 

Now, however, no whit anticipating the ob- 
livion which awaited their names and feats, the 
champions advanced through the lists, restraining 
their fiery steeds, and compelling them to move 
slowly, while, at the same time, they exhibited 
their paces, together with the grace and dexterity 
of the riders. As the procession entered the 
lists, the sound of a wild barbaric music was 
heard from behind the tents of the challengers 
where the performers were concealed. It was of 
eastern origin, having been brought from the 
Holy Land ; and the mixture of the cymbals 
and bells seemed to bid welcome at once, and 
defiance, to the knights as they advanced. With 
the eyes of an immense concourse of spectators 



90 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

fixed upon them, the five knights advanced up 
the platform upon which the tents of the chal- 
lengers stood, and there separating themselves, 
each touched slightly, and with the reverse of his 
lance, the shield of the antagonist to whom he 
wished to oppose himself. The lower order of 
spectators in general — nay, many of the higher 
class, and it is even said several of the ladies, 
were rather disappointed at the champions choos- 
ing the arms of courtesy. For the same sort of 
persons, who, in the present day, applaud most 
highly the deepest tragedies, were then interested 
in a tournament exactly in proportion to the 
danger incurred by the champions engaged. 

Having intimated their more pacific purpose, 
the champions retreated to the extremity of the 
lists, where they remained drawn up in a line ; 
while the challengers, sallying each from his 
pavilion, mounted their horses, and, headed by 
Brian de Bois Guilbert, descended from the plat- 
form, and opposed themselves individually to the 
knights who had touched their respective shields. 

At the flourish of clarions and trumpets, they 
started out against each other at full gallop ; 
and such was the superior dexterity or good for- 
tune of the challengers, that those opposed to 
Bois Guilbert, Malvoisin, and Front de Boeuf 
rolled on the ground. The antagonist of Grant- 
mesnil, instead of bearing his lance point fair 



THE TOURNAMENT 91 

against the crest or the shield of his enemy, swerved 
so much from the direct line as to break the weapon 
athwart the person of his opponent — a circum- 
stance which was accounted more disgraceful than 
that of being actually unhorsed ; because the 
latter might happen from accident, whereas the 
former evinced awkwardness and want of manage- 
ment of the weapon and of the horse. The fifth 
knight alone maintained the honor of his party, 
and parted fairly with the Knight of St. John, 
both splintering their lances without advantage 
on either side. 

The shouts of the multitude, together with the 
acclamations of the heralds, and the clangor of 
the trumpets, announced the triumph of the 
victors and the defeat of the vanquished. The 
former retreated to their pavilions, and the latter, 
gathering themselves up as they could, withdrew 
from the lists in disgrace and dejection, to agree 
with their victors concerning the redemption of 
their arms and their horses, which, according to 
the laws of the tournament, they had forfeited. 
The fifth of their number alone tarried in the lists 
long enough to be greeted by the applause of the 
spectators, amongst whom he retreated, to the 
aggravation, doubtless, of his companions' morti- 
fication, 

A second and a third party of knights took the 
field ; and although they had various success, yet, 



92 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

upon the whole, the advantage decidedly remained 
with the challengers, not one of whom lost his 
seat or swerved from his charge — misfortunes 
which befell one or two of their antagonists in 
each encounter. The spirits, therefore, of those 
opposed to them seemed to be considerably 
damped by their continued success. Three knights 
only appeared on the fourth entry, who, avoiding 
the shields of Bois Guilbert and Front de Boeuf, 
contented themselves with touching those of the 
three other knights, who had not altogether mani- 
fested the same strength and dexterity. This 
politic selection did not alter the fortune of the 
field, the challengers were still successful ; one 
of their antagonists was overthrown, and both 
the others failed in the attaint; that is, in striking 
the helmet and shield of their antagonist firmly 
and strongly, with the lance held in a direct line, 
so that the weapon might break unless the cham- 
pion was overthrown. 

After this fourth encounter, there was a con- 
siderable pause ; nor did it appear that any one 
was very desirous of renewing the contest. The 
spectators murmured among themselves ; for, 
among the challengers, Malvoisin and Front de 
Boeuf were unpopular from their characters, and 
the others, except Grantmesnil, were disliked as 
strangers and foreigners. 

But none shared the general feeling of dissatis- 



THE TOURNAMENT 93 

faction so keenly as Cedric the Saxon, who saw, 
in each advantage gained by the Norman chal- 
lengers, a repeated triumph over the honor of 
England. His own education had taught him 
no skill in the games of chivalry, although, with 
the arms of his Saxon ancestors, he had manifested 
himself, on many occasions, a brave and deter- 
mined soldier. He looked, anxiously to Athel- 
stane, who had learned the accomplishments of 
the age, as if desiring that he should make some 
personal effort to recover the victory which was 
passing into the hands of the Templar and his as- 
sociates. But, though both stout of heart and 
strong of person, Athelstane had a disposition 
too inert and unambitious to make the exertions 
which Cedric seemed to expect from him. 

"The day is against England, my lord," said 
Cedric, in a marked tone ; "are you not tempted 
to take the lance ?" 

"I shall tilt to-morrow," answered Athelstane, 
"in the melee ; it is not worth while for me to arm 
myself to-day." 

Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. 
It contained the Norman word melee (to express 
the general conflict), and it evinced some in- 
difference to the honor of the country ; but it 
was spoken by Athelstane, whom he held in such 
profound respect, that he would not trust himself 
to canvass his motives or his foibles. Moreover, 



94 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

he had no time to make any remark, for Wamba 1 
thrust in his word, observing, "It was better, 
though scarce easier, to be the best man among a 
hundred than the best man of two." 

Athelstane took the observation as a serious 
compliment ; but Cedric, who better understood 
the jester's meaning, darted at him a severe and 
menacing look ; and lucky it was for Wamba, 
perhaps, that the time and place prevented his 
receiving, notwithstanding his place and serv- 
ice, more sensible marks of his master's resent- 
ment. 

The pause in the tournament was still unin- 
terrupted, excepting by the voices of the heralds 
exclaiming — "Love of ladies, splintering of lances ! 
stand forth, gallant knights, fair eyes look upon 
your deeds [" 

The music also of the challengers breathed from 
time to time wild bursts expressive of triumph or 
defiance, while the clowns grudged a holiday 
which seemed to pass away in inactivity ; and 
old knights and nobles lamented in whispers the 
decay of martial spirit, spoke of the triumphs of 
their younger days, but agreed that the land did 
not now supply dames of such transcendent beauty 
as had animated the jousts of former times. 
Prince John began to talk to his attendants about 
making ready the banquet, and the necessity of 

1 The jester attached to the household of Cedric the Saxon. 



THE TOURNAMENT 95 

adjudging the prize to Brian de Bois Guilbert, 
who had, with a single spear, overthrown two 
knights, and foiled a third. 

At length, as the Saracenic music of the chal- 
lengers concluded one of those long and high 
flourishes with which they had broken the silence 
of the lists, it was answered by a solitary trumpet, 
which breathed a note of defiance from the north- 
ern extremity. All eyes were turned to see the 
new champion which these sounds announced, 
and no sooner were the barriers opened than he 
paced into the lists. As far as could be judged 
of a man sheathed in armor, the new adventurer 
did not greatly exceed the middle size, and seemed 
to be rather slender than strongly made. His 
suit of armor was formed of steel, richly inlaid 
with gold, and the device on his shield was a young 
oak tree pulled up by the roots, with the Spanish 
word Desdichado, signifying Disinherited. 1 He 
was mounted on a gallant black horse, and as he 
passed through the lists he gracefully saluted 
the prince and the ladies by lowering his lance. 
The dexterity with which he managed his steed, 
and something of youthful grace which he dis- 
played in his manner, won him the favor of the 
multitude, which some of the lower classes ex- 
pressed by calling out, "Touch Ralph de Vipont's 

1 This knight was Wilfred of Ivanhoe, the disinherited son of Cedric the 
Saxon. 



96 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

shield — touch the Hospitaller's shield 1 ; he has 
the least sure seat, he is your cheapest bar- 
gain." 

The champion, moving onward amid these 
well-meant hints, ascended the platform by the 
sloping alley which led to it from the lists, and, 
to the astonishment of all present, riding straight 
up to the central pavilion, struck with the sharp 
end of his spear the shield of Brian de Bois Guil- 
bert until it rung again. All stood astonished 
at his presumption, but none more than the re- 
doubted knight whom he had thus defied to mortal 
combat, and who, little expecting so rude a chal- 
lenge, was standing carelessly at the door of the 
pavilion. 

"Have you confessed yourself, brother," said 
the Templar, "and have you heard mass this 
morning, that you peril your life so frankly ?" 

"I am fitter to meet death than thou art," 
answered the Disinherited Knight ; for by this 
name the stranger had recorded himself in the 
books of the tourney. 

"Then take your place in the lists," said Bois 
Guilbert, "and look your last upon the sun; for 
this night thou shalt sleep in paradise." 

"Gramercy for thy courtesy," replied the Dis- 
inherited Knight, "and to requite it, I advise 

1 Hospitaller : a knight of the religious military order of St. John of 
Jerusalem, which grew out of a hospital founded at Jerusalem about 1048. 



THE TOURNAMENT 97 

thee to take a fresh horse and a new lance, for by 
my honor you will need both/' 

Having expressed himself thus confidently, he 
reined his horse backward down the slope which 
he had ascended, and compelled him in the same 
manner to move backward through the lists, till 
he reached the northern extremity, where he re- 
mained stationary, in expectation of his antagonist. 
This feat of horsemanship again attracted the ap- 
plause of the multitude. 

However incensed at his adversary for the pre- 
cautions which he recommended, Brian de Bois 
Guilbert did not neglect his advice ; for his honor 
was too nearly concerned to permit his neglecting 
any means which might insure victory over his 
presumptuous opponent. He changed his horse 
for a proved and fresh one of great strength and 
spirit. He chose a new and tough spear, lest the 
wood of the former might have been strained in 
the previous encounters he had sustained. Lastly, 
he laid aside his shield, which had received some 
little damage, and received another from his 
squires. His first had only borne the general 
device of his rider, representing two knights rid- 
ing upon one horse, an emblem expressive of the 
original humility and poverty of the Templars, 
qualities which they had since exchanged for the 
arrogance and wealth that finally occasioned their 
suppression. Bois Guilbert's new shield bore a 



98 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

raven in full flight, holding in its claws a skull, 
and bearing the motto, Gare le Corbeau. 1 

When the two champions stood opposed to 
each other at the two extremities of the lists, the 
public expectation was strained to the highest 
pitch. Few augured the possibility that the en- 
counter could terminate well for the Disinherited 
Knight, yet his courage and gallantry secured the 
general good wishes of the spectators. 

The trumpets had no sooner given the signal, 
than the champions vanished from their posts 
with the speed of lightning, and closed in the 
center of the lists with the shock of a thunder- 
bolt. The lances burst into shivers up to the 
very grasp, and it seemed at the moment that 
both knights had fallen, for the shock had made 
each horse recoil backwards upon its haunches. 
The address of the riders recovered their steeds 
by use of the bridle and spur, and having glared 
on each other for an instant with eyes which 
seemed to flash fire through the bars of their 
visors, each made a demivolte, and, retiring to 
the extremity of the lists, received a fresh lance 
from the attendants. 

A loud shout from the spectators, waving of 
scarfs and handkerchiefs, and general acclamations, 
attested the interest taken by the spectators in 
this encounter ; the most equal, as well as the 

1 Beware the raven. 



THE TOURNAMENT 99 

best performed, which had graced the day. But 
no sooner had the knights resumed their station, 
than the clamor of applause was hushed into a 
silence, so deep and so dead, that it seemed the 
multitude were afraid even to breathe. 

A few minutes 5 pause having been allowed, that 
the combatants and their horses might recover 
breath, Prince John with his truncheon signed 
to the trumpets to sound the onset. The cham- 
pions a second time sprung from their stations, 
and closed in the center of the lists, with the same 
speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, but 
not the same equal fortune as before. 

In this second encounter, the Templar aimed 
at the center of his antagonist's shield, and struck 
it so fair and forcibly that his spear went to shivers, 
and the Disinherited Knight reeled in his saddle. 
On the other hand, that champion had, in the 
beginning of his career, directed the point of his 
lance towards Bois Guilbert's shield, but, chang- 
ing his aim almost in the moment of encounter, he 
addressed it to the helmet, a m*ark more difficult 
to hit, but which, if attained, rendered the shock 
more irresistible. Fair and true he hit the Nor- 
man on the visor, where his lance's point kept 
hold of the bars. Yet, even at this disadvantage, 
the Templar sustained his high reputation ; and 
had not the girths of his saddle burst, he might 
not have been unhorsed. As it chanced, how- 



IOO TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

ever, saddle, horse, and man, rolled on the ground 
under a cloud of dust. 

To extricate himself from the stirrups and 
fallen steed was to the Templar scarce the work 
of a moment ; and, stung with madness, both at 
his disgrace and at the acclamations with which 
it was hailed by the spectators, he drew his sword 
and waved it in defiance of his conqueror. The 
Disinherited Knight sprung from his steed, and 
also unsheathed his sword. The marshals of 
the field, however, spurred their horses between 
them, and reminded them that the laws of the 
tournament did not, on the present occasion, 
permit this species of encounter. 

"We shall meet again, I trust," said the Tem- 
plar, casting a resentful glance at his antagonist ; 
"and where there are none to separate us." 

"If we do not," said the Disinherited Knight, 
"the fault shall not be mine. On foot or horse- 
back, with spear, with ax, or with sword, I am 
alike ready to encounter thee." 

More and angrier words would have been ex- 
changed, but the marshals, crossing their lances 
betwixt them, compelled them to separate. The 
Disinherited Knight returned to his first station, 
and Bois Guilbert to his tent, where he remained 
for the rest of the day in an agony of despair. 

Without alighting from horse, the conqueror 
called for a bowl of wine, and opening the beaver, 



THE TOURNAMENT IOI 

or lower part of his helmet, announced that he 
quaffed it, "To all true English hearts, and to the 
confusion of foreign tyrants/' He then com- 
manded his trumpet to sound a defiance to the 
challengers, and desired a herald to announce to 
them that he should make no election, but was 
willing to encounter them in the order in which 
they pleased to advance against him. 

The gigantic Front de Boeuf, armed in sable 
armor, was the first who took the field. He bore 
on a white shield a black bull's head, half defaced 
by the numerous encounters which he had under- 
gone, and bearing the arrogant motto, Cave Ad- 
sum} Over this champion the Disinherited Knight 
obtained a slight but decisive advantage. Both 
Knights broke their lances fairly, but Front de 
Boeuf, who lost a stirrup in the encounter, was 
adjudged to have the disadvantage. 

In the stranger's third encounter with Sir 
Philip Malvoisin, he was equally successful ; strik- 
ing that baron so forcibly on the casque, that the 
laces of the helmet broke, and Malvoisin, only 
saved from falling by being unhelmeted, was de- 
clared vanquished like his companions. 

In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, 
the Disinherited Knight showed as much courtesy 
as he had hitherto evinced courage and dexterity. 
De Grantmesnil's horse, which was young and 

1 Beware, I am here. 



102 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

violent, reared and plunged in the course of the 
career so as to disturb the rider's aim, declining 
to take the advantage which this accident afforded 
him, raised his lance, and passing his antagonist 
without touching him, wheeled his horse and 
rode back again to his own end of the lists, offer- 
ing his antagonist, by a herald, the chance of a 
second encounter. This De Grantmesnil declined, 
avowing himself vanquished as much by the cour- 
tesy as by the address of his opponent. 

Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the 
stranger's triumphs, being hurled to the ground 
with such force that the blood gushed from his 
nose and his mouth, and he was borne senseless 
from the lists. 

The acclamations of thousands applauded the 
unanimous award of the prince and marshals, 
announcing that day's honors to the Disinherited 
Knight. From " Ivanhoe." 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 

Morning arose in unclouded splendor, and 
ere the sun was much above the horizon, the idlest 
or the most eager of the spectators appeared on 
the common, moving to the lists as to a general 
center, in order to secure a favorable situation 
for viewing the continuation of the expected games. 

The marshals and their attendants appeared 
next on the field, together with the heralds, for 
the purpose of receiving the names of the knights 
who intended to joust, with the side which each 
chose to espouse. This was a necessary precau- 
tion, in order to secure equality betwixt the two 
bodies who should be opposed to each other. 

According to due formality, the Disinherited 
Knight was to be considered as leader of the one 
body, while Brian de Bois Guilbert, who had been 
rated as having done second-best in the preceding 
day, was named first champion of the other band. 
Those who had concurred in the challenge ad- 
hered to his party of course, excepting only Ralph 
de Vipont, whom his fall had rendered unfit so 
soon to put on his armor. There was no want 
of distinguished and noble candidates to fill up 
the ranks on either side. 

103 



104 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

In fact, although the general tournament, in 
which all knights fought at once, was more dan- 
gerous than single encounters, they were, never- 
theless, more frequented and practised by the 
chivalry of the age. Many knights, who had not 
sufficient confidence in their own skill to defy a 
single adversary of high reputation, were, never- 
theless, desirous of displaying their valor in the 
general combat, where they might meet others 
with whom they were more upon an equality. 
On the present occasion, about fifty knights were 
inscribed as desirous of combating upon each side, 
when the marshals declared that no more could 
be admitted, to the disappointment of several 
who were too late in preferring their claim to be 
included. 

About the hour of ten o'clock, the whole plain 
was crowded with horsemen, horsewomen, and 
foot passengers, hastening to the tournament ; 
and shortly after, a grand flourish of trumpets 
announced Prince John and his retinue, attended 
by many of those knights who meant to take share 
in the game, as well as others who had no such 
intention. 

About the same time arrived Cedric the Saxon, 
with the Lady Rowena, unattended, however, by 
Athelstane. This Saxon lord had arrayed his 
tall and strong person in armor, in order to take 
his place among the combatants ; and, consider- 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 105 

ably to the surprise of Cedric, had chosen to en- 
list himself on the part of the Knight Templar. 
The Saxon, indeed, had remonstrated strongly 
with his friend upon the injudicious choice he had 
made of his party ; but he had only received that 
sort of answer usually given by those who are 
more obstinate in following their own course 
than strong in justifying it. 

His best, if not his only reason, for adhering 
to the party of Brian de Bois Guilbert, Athelstane 
had the prudence to keep to himself. Though 
his apathy of disposition prevented his taking 
any means to recommend himself to the Lady 
Rowena, he was, nevertheless, by no means in- 
sensible to her charms, and considered his union 
with her as a matter already fixed beyond doubt, 
by the assent of Cedric and her other friends. 
It had therefore been with smothered displeasure 
that the proud though indolent Lord of Conings- 
burgh beheld the victor of the preceding day 
select Rowena as the object of that honor which 
it became his privilege to confer. In order to 
punish him for a preference which seemed to inter- 
fere with his own suit, Athelstane, confident of his 
strength, and to whom his flatterers, at least, 
ascribed great skill in arms, had determined not 
only to deprive the Disinherited Knight of his 
powerful succor, but, if an opportunity should 
occur, to make him feel the weight of his battle ax. 



106 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

De Bracy and other knights attached to Prince 
John, in obedience to a hint from him, had joined 
the party of the challengers, John being desirous 
to secure, if possible, the victory to that side. 
On the other hand, many other knights, both 
English and Norman, natives and strangers, took 
part against the challengers, the more readily 
that the opposite band was to be led by so dis- 
tinguished a champion as the Disinherited Knight 
had approved himself. 

As soon as Prince John observed that the 
destined queen x of the day had arrived upon the 
field, assuming that air of courtesy which sat 
well upon him when he was pleased to exhibit it, 
he rode forward to meet her, doffed his bonnet, 
and, alighting from his horse, assisted the Lady 
Rowena from her saddle, while his followers un- 
covered at the same time, and one of the most 
distinguished dismounted to hold her palfrey. 

"It is thus," said Prince John, "that we set the 
dutiful example of loyalty to the Queen of Love 
and Beauty, and are ourselves her guide to the 
throne which she must this day occupy. — Ladies," 
he said, "attend your queen, as you wish in your 
turn to be distinguished by like honors." 

So saying, the prince marshaled Rowena to 
the seat of honor opposite his own, while the 

1 This was the Lady Rowena, ward of Cedric, who had been named 
queen of the day by the Disinherited Knight. 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 107 

fairest and most distinguished ladies present 
crowded after her to obtain places as near as 
possible to their temporary sovereign. 

No sooner was Rowena seated than a burst of 
music, half drowned by the shouts of the multi- 
tude, greeted her new dignity. Meantime, the 
sun shone fierce and bright upon the polished 
arms of the knights of either side, who crowded 
the opposite extremities of the lists, and held 
eager conference together concerning the best 
mode of arranging their line of battle, and sup- 
porting the conflict. 

The heralds then proclaimed silence until the 
laws of the tourney should be rehearsed. These 
were calculated in some degree to abate the dan- 
gers of the day ; a precaution the more necessary, 
as the conflict was to be maintained with sharp 
swords and pointed lances. 

The champions were therefore prohibited to 
thrust with the sword, and were confined to strik- 
ing. A knight, it was announced, might use a 
mace or battle ax at pleasure, but the dagger 
was a prohibited weapon. A knight unhorsed 
might renew the fight on foot with any other on 
the opposite side in the same predicament ; but 
mounted horsemen were in that case forbidden 
to assail him. When any knight could force his 
antagonist to the extremity of the lists, so as to 
touch the palisade with his person or arms, such 



108 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

opponent was obliged to yield himself vanquished, 
and his armor and horse were placed at the dis- 
posal of the conqueror. A knight thus overcome 
was not permitted to take further share in the 
combat. If any combatant was struck down, and 
unable to recover his feet, his squire or page might 
enter the lists, and drag his master out of the 
press ; but in that case the knight was adjudged 
vanquished, and his arms and horse declared 
forfeited. The combat was to cease as soon as 
Prince John should throw down his leading staff, 
or truncheon ; another precaution usually taken 
to prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood by 
the too long endurance of a sport so desperate. 
Any knight breaking the rules of the tournament, 
or otherwise transgressing the rules of honorable 
chivalry, was liable to be stript of his arms, and, 
having his shield reversed, to be placed in that 
posture astride upon the bars of the palisade, and 
exposed to public derision, in punishment of his 
unknightly conduct. Having announced these 
precautions, the heralds concluded with an ex- 
hortation to each good knight to do his duty, and 
to merit favor from the Queen of Beauty and 
Love. 

This proclamation having been made, the heralds 
withdrew to their stations. The knights, entering 
at either end of the lists in long procession, arranged 
themselves in a double file, precisely opposite to 






THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 109 

each other, the leader of each party being in the 
center of the foremost rank, a post which he 
did not occupy until each had carefully arranged 
the ranks of his party, and stationed every one 
in his place. It was a goodly, and at the same 
time an anxious, sight, to behold so many gallant 
champions, mounted bravely, and armed richly, 
stand ready prepared for an encounter so formi- 
dable, seated on their war-saddles like so many 
pillars of iron, and awaiting the signal of encounter 
with the same ardor as their generous steeds, 
which, by neighing and pawing the ground, gave 
signal of their impatience. 

As yet the knights held their long lances up- 
right, their bright points glancing to the sun, 
and the streamers with which they were decorated 
fluttering over the plumage of the helmets. Thus 
they remained while the marshals of the field sur- 
veyed their ranks with the utmost exactness, lest 
either party had more or fewer than the appointed 
number. The tale was found exactly complete. 
The marshals then withdrew from the lists, and 
William de Wyvil, with a voice of thunder, pro- 
nounced the signal words — Laissez alter ! l The 
trumpets sounded as he spoke — the spears of 
the champions were at once lowered and placed 
in the rests — the spurs were dashed into the 
flanks of the horses, and the two foremost ranks 

1 Let go, i.e., Go ! 



no TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

of either party rushed upon each other in full 
gallop, and met in the middle of the lists with a 
shock, the sound of which was heard at a mile's 
distance. The rear rank of each party advanced 
at a slower pace to sustain the defeated, and follow 
up the success of the victors of their party. 

The consequences of the encounter were not 
instantly seen, for the dust raised by the tramp- 
ling of so many steeds darkened the air, and it 
was a minute ere the anxious spectators could see 
the fate of the encounter. When the fight be- 
came visible, half the knights on each side were 
dismounted, some by the dexterity of their ad- 
versary's lance, — some by the superior weight 
and strength of opponents, which had borne down 
both horse and man, — some lay stretched on 
earth as if never more to rise, — some had already 
gained their feet, and were closing hand to hand 
with those of their antagonists who were in the 
same predicament, — and several on both sides, 
who had received wounds by which they were 
disabled, were stopping their blood by their scarfs, 
and endeavoring to extricate themselves from 
the tumult. The mounted knights, whose lances 
had been almost all broken by the fury of the 
encounter, were now closely engaged with their 
swords, shouting their war cries, and exchanging 
buffets, as if honor and life depended on the issue 
of the combat. 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY ill 

The tumult was presently increased by the ad- 
vance of the second rank on either side, which, 
acting as a reserve, now rushed on to aid their 
companions. The followers of Brian de Bois 
Guilbert shouted — "Ha ! Beau-seant ! Beau-seant I 1 
— For the Temple — For the Temple!" The 
opposite party shouted in answer — " Desdichado ! 
Desdichado !" — which watchword they took from 
the motto upon their leader's shield. 

The champions thus encountering each other 
with the utmost fury, and with alternate success, 
the tide of battle seemed to flow now toward the 
southern, now toward the northern extremity of 
the lists, as the one or the other party prevailed. 
Meantime the clang of the blows, and the shouts 
of the combatants, mixed fearfully with the sound 
of the trumpets, and drowned the groans of those 
who fell, and lay rolling defenceless beneath the 
feet of the horses. The splendid armor of the 
combatants was now defaced with dust and blood, 
and gave way at every stroke of the sword and 
battle ax. The gay plumage, shorn from the 
crests, drifted upon the breeze like snowflakes. 
All that was beautiful and graceful in the martial 
array had disappeared, and what was now visible 
was only calculated to awake terror or compassion. 

1 Beau-seant was the name of the Templars' banner, which was half 
black, half white, to intimate, it is said, that they were candid and fair 
towards Christians, but black and terrible towards infidels. 



112 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Yet such is the force of habit, that not only the 
vulgar spectators, who are naturally attracted 
by sights of horror, but even the ladies of dis- 
tinction, who crowded the galleries, saw the con- 
flict with a thrilling interest certainly, but without 
a wish to withdraw their eyes from a sight so 
terrible. Here and there, indeed, a fair cheek 
might turn pale, or a faint scream might be heard, 
as a lover, a brother, or a husband was struck 
from his horse. But, in general, the ladies around 
encouraged the combatants, not only by clapping 
their hands and waving their veils and kerchiefs, 
but even by exclaiming, "Brave lance! Good 
sword !" when any successful thrust or blow took 
place under their observation. 

Such being the interest taken by the fair sex 
in this bloody game, that of the men is the more 
easily understood. It showed itself in loud ac- 
clamations upon every change of fortune, while 
all eyes were so riveted on the lists, that the spec- 
tators seemed as if they themselves had dealt and 
received the blows which were there so freely 
bestowed. And between every pause was heard the 
voice of the heralds, exclaiming : " Fight on, brave 
knights ! Man dies, but glory lives ! — Fight on 
— death is better than defeat ! — Fight on, brave 
knights ! — for bright eyes behold your deeds !" 

Amid the varied fortunes of the combat, the 
eyes of all endeavored to discover the leaders 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 113 

of each band, who, mingling in the thick of the 
fight, encouraged their companions both by voice 
and example. Both displayed great feats of 
gallantry, nor did either Bois Guilbert or the 
Disinherited Knight find in the ranks opposed 
to them a champion who could be termed their 
unquestioned match. They repeatedly en- 
deavored to single out each other, spurred by 
mutual animosity, and aware that the fall of 
either leader might be considered as decisive of 
victory. Such, however, was the crowd and con- 
fusion, that, during the earlier part of the conflict, 
their efforts to meet were unavailing, and they 
were repeatedly separated by the eagerness of 
their followers, each of whom was anxious to win 
honor, by measuring his strength against the 
leader of the opposite party. 

But when the field became thin by the numbers 
on either side who had yielded themselves van- 
quished, had been compelled to the extremity 
of the lists, or been otherwise rendered incapable 
of continuing the strife, the Templar and the 
Disinherited Knight at length encountered hand 
to hand, with all the fury that mortal animosity, 
joined to rivalry of honor, could inspire. Such 
was the address of each in parrying and striking, 
that the spectators broke forth into a unanimous 
and involuntary shout, expressive of their delight 
and admiration. 



114 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

But at this moment the party of the Disinherited 
Knight had the worst ; the gigantic arm of Front 
de Boeuf on the one flank, and the ponderous 
strength of Athelstane on the other, bearing down 
and dispersing those immediately exposed to them. 
Finding themselves freed from their immediate 
antagonists, it seems to have occurred to both 
these knights at the same instant, that they would 
render the most decisive advantage to their party, 
by aiding the Templar in his contest with his 
rival. Turning their horses, therefore, at the 
same moment, the Norman spurred against the 
Disinherited Knight on the one side, and the 
Saxon on the other. It was utterly impossible 
that the object of this unequal and unexpected 
assault could have sustained it, had he not been 
warned by a general cry from the spectators, who 
could not but take interest in one exposed to such 
disadvantage. 

"Beware! beware! Sir Disinherited!' 3 was 
shouted so universally, that the knight became 
aware of his danger ; and, striking a full blow 
at the Templar, he reined back his steed in the 
same moment, so as to escape the charge of Athel- 
stane and Front de Boeuf. These knights, there- 
fore, their aim being thus eluded, rushed from 
opposite sides betwixt the object of their attack 
and the Templar, almost running their horses 
against each other ere they could stop their career. 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 115 

Recovering their horses, however, and wheeling 
them round, the whole three pursued their united 
purpose of bearing to the earth the Disinherited 
Knight. 

Nothing could have saved him, except the re- 
markable strength and activity of the noble horse 
which he had won on the preceding day. 

This stood him in the more stead, as the horse 
of Bois Guilbert was wounded, and those of 
Front de Boeuf and Athelstane were both tired 
with the weight of their gigantic masters, clad 
in complete armor, and with the preceding ex- 
ertions of the day. The masterly horsemanship 
of the Disinherited Knight, and the activity of 
the noble animal which he mounted, enabled him 
for a few minutes to keep at sword's point his 
three antagonists, turning and wheeling with the 
agility of a hawk upon the wing, keeping his 
enemies as far separate as he could, and rushing 
now against the one, now against the other, deal- 
ing sweeping blows with his sword, without waiting 
to receive those which were aimed at him in return. 

But although the lists rang with the applauses 
of his dexterity, it was evident that he must at 
last be overpowered ; and the nobles around 
Prince John implored him with one voice to throw 
down his warder, and to save so brave a knight 
from the disgrace of being overcome by odds. 

"Not I, by the light of Heaven !" answered 



Il6 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Prince John; "this same springal, who conceals 
his name, and despises our proffered hospitality, 
hath already gained one prize, and may now afford 
to let others have their turn/ 5 As he spoke thus, 
an unexpected incident changed the fortune of 
the day. 

There was among the ranks of the Disinherited 
Knight a champion in black armor, mounted on 
a black horse, large of size, tall, and to all ap- 
pearance powerful and strong, like the rider by 
whom he was mounted. This knight, who bore 
on his shield no device of any kind, had hitherto 
evinced very little interest in the event of the 
fight, beating off with seeming ease those com- 
batants who attacked him, but neither pursuing 
his advantages, nor himself assailing any one. 
In short, he had hitherto acted the part rather of a 
spectator than of a party in the tournament, a cir- 
cumstance which procured him among the spec- 
tators, the name of he Noir Faineant, or the Black 
Sluggard. 1 

At once this knight seemed to throw aside his 
apathy, when he discovered the leader of his 
party so hard beset ; for, setting spurs to his 
horse, which was quite fresh, he came to his assist- 
ance like a thunderbolt, exclaiming, in a voice 
like a trumpet call, " Desdichado, to the rescue \ 9i 

1 This was King Richard I, who had returned to England in disguise, 
after a long absence in Palestine. 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 117 

It was high time ; for, while the Disinherited 
Knight was pressing upon the Templar, Front 
de Boeuf had got nigh to him with his uplifted 
sword ; but ere the blow could descend, the Sable 
Knight dealt a stroke on his head, which, glancing 
from the polished helmet, lighted with violence 
scarcely abated on the chamfron of the steed, and 
Front de Boeuf rolled on the ground, both horse 
and man equally stunned by the fury of the blow. 
Le Noir Faineant then turned his horse upon 
Athelstane of Coningsburgh ; and his own sword 
having been broken in his encounter with Front 
de Boeuf, he wrenched from the hand of the bulky 
Saxon the battle ax which he wielded, and, like 
one familiar with the use of the weapon, bestowed 
him such a blow upon the crest, that Athelstane 
also lay senseless on the field. Having achieved 
this double feat, for which he was the more highly 
applauded that it was totally unexpected from 
him, the knight seemed to resume the sluggishness 
of his character, returning calmly to the northern 
extremity of the lists, leaving his leader to cope 
as he best could "with Brian de Bois Guilbert. 
This was no longer matter of so much difficulty 
as formerly. The Templar's horse had bled much, 
and gave way under the shock of the Disinherited 
Knight's charge. Brian de Bois Guilbert rolled 
on the field, encumbered with the stirrup from 
which he was unable to draw his foot. His an- 



Ii8 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

tagonist sprung from horseback, waved his fatal 
sword over the head of his adversary, and com- 
manded him to yield himself; when Prince John, 
more moved by the Templar's dangerous situation 
than he had been by that of his rival, saved him 
the mortification of confessing himself vanquished, 
by casting down his warder, and putting an end 
to the conflict. 

It was, indeed, only the relics and embers of 
the fight which continued to burn ; for of the few 
knights who still continued in the lists, the greater 
part had, by tacit consent, forborne the conflict 
for some time, leaving it to be determined by the 
strife of the leaders. 

The squires, who had found it a matter of danger 
and difficulty to attend their masters during the 
engagement, now thronged into the lists to pay 
their dutiful attendance to the wounded, who 
were removed with the utmost care and attention 
to the neighboring pavilions, or to the quarters 
prepared for them in the adjoining village. 

Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby de 
la Zouch, one of the most gallantly contested 
tournaments of that age ; for although only four 
knights, including one who was smothered by the 
heat of his armor, had died upon the field, yet 
upwards of thirty were desperately wounded, 
four or five of whom never recovered. Several 
more were disabled for life ; and those who es- 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 119 

caped best carried the marks of the conflict to the 
grave with them. Hence it is always mentioned 
in the old records, as the Gentle and Joyous Pas- 
sage of Arms of Ashby. 

It being now the duty of Prince John to name 
the knight who had done best, he determined that 
the honor of the day remained with the knight 
whom the popular voice had termed Le Noir 
Faineant. It was pointed out to the Prince, in 
impeachment of this decree, that the victory had 
been in fact won by the Disinherited Knight, who, 
in the course of the day, had overcome six cham- 
pions with his own hand, and who had finally un- 
horsed and struck down the leader of the opposite 
party. But Prince John adhered to his own 
opinion, on the ground that the Disinherited 
Knight and his party had lost the day but for the 
powerful assistance of the Knight of the Black 
Armor, to whom, therefore, he persisted in 
awarding the prize. 

To the surprise of all present, however, the 
knight thus preferred was nowhere to be found. 
He had left the lists immediately when the con- 
flict ceased, and had been observed by some spec- 
tators to move down one of the forest glades with 
the same slow pace and listless and indifferent 
manner which had procured him the epithet of 
the Black Sluggard. After he had been summoned 
twice by sound of trumpet, and proclamation of 



120 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

the heralds, it became necessary to name another 
to receive the honors which had been assigned to 
him. Prince John had now no further excuse for 
resisting the claim of the Disinherited Knight, 
whom, therefore, he named the champion of the 
day. 

Through a field slippery with blood, and en- 
cumbered with broken armor and the bodies 
of slain and wounded horses, the marshals of the 
lists again conducted the victor to the foot of 
Prince John's throne. 

"Disinherited Knight/' said Prince John, "since 
by that title only you will consent to be known to 
us, we a second time award to you the honors 
of this tournament, and announce to you your 
right to claim and receive from the hands of the 
Queen of Love and Beauty, the Chaplet of Honor 
which your valor has justly deserved." The 
knight bowed low and gracefully, but returned 
no answer. 

While the trumpets sounded, while the heralds 
strained their voices in proclaiming honor to the 
brave and glory to the victor — while ladies waved 
their silken kerchiefs and embroidered veils, and 
while all ranks joined in a clamorous shout of 
exultation, the marshals conducted the Disin- 
herited Knight across the lists to the foot of that 
throne of honor which was occupied by the Lady 
Rowena. 



THE LAST DAY AT ASHBY 121 

On the lower step of this throne the champion 
was made to kneel down. Indeed his whole action, 
since the fight had ended, seemed rather to have 
been upon the impulse of those around him than 
from his own free will ; and it was observed that 
he tottered as they guided him the second time 
across the lists. Rowena, descending from her 
station with a graceful and dignified step, was 
about to place the chaplet which she held in her 
hand upon the helmet of the champion, when the 
marshals exclaimed with one voice, "It must not 
be thus — his head must be bare." The knight 
muttered faintly a few words, which were lost in 
the hollow of his helmet, but their purport seemed 
to be a desire that his casque might not be removed. 

Whether from love of form, or from curiosity, 
the marshals paid no attention to his expressions 
of reluctance, but unhelmed him by cutting the 
laces of his casque, and undoing the fastening of 
his gorget. When the helmet was removed, the 
well-formed, yet sunburnt features of a young 
man pf twenty-five were seen, amidst a profusion 
of short, fair hair. His countenance was as pale 
as death, and marked in one or two places with 
streaks of blood. 

Rowena had no sooner beheld him than she ut- 
tered a faint shriek ; but at once summoning up 
the energy of her disposition, and compelling her- 
self, as it were, to proceed, while her frame yet 



122 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

trembled with the violence of sudden emotion, 
she placed upon the drooping head of the victor 
the splendid chaplet which was the destined reward 
of the day, and pronounced, in a clear and distinct 
tone, these words : "I bestow on thee this chaplet, 
Sir Knight, as the meed of valor assigned to this 
day's victor. " Here she paused a moment, and 
then firmly added, "And upon brows more worthy 
could a wreath of chivalry never be placed ! ,j 

The knight stooped his head, and kissed the 
hand of the lovely sovereign by whom his valor 
had been rewarded ; and then, sinking yet farther 
forward, lay prostrate at her feet. 

There was a general consternation. Cedric, 
who had been struck mute by the sudden appear- 
ance of his banished son, now rushed forward, as 
if to separate him from Rowena. But this had 
been already accomplished by the marshals of the 
field, who, guessing the cause of Ivanhoe's swoon, 
had hastened to undo his armor, and found that 
the head of a lance had penetrated his breast- 
plate, and inflicted a wound in his side. 

From " Ivanhoe." 



THE ARCHERY CONTEST 

The sound of the trumpets soon recalled those 
spectators who had already begun to leave the field ; 
and proclamation was made that Prince John, 
suddenly called by high and peremptory public 
duties, held himself obliged to discontinue the 
entertainments of to-morrow's festival. Never- 
theless, that, unwilling so many good yeomen 
should depart without a trial of skill, he was 
pleased to appoint them, before leaving the ground, 
presently to execute the competition of archery 
intended for the morrow. To the best archer a 
prize was to be awarded, being a bugle horn, 
mounted with silver, and a silver baldric richly 
ornamented with a medallion of St. Hubert, the 
patron of silvan sport. 

More than thirty yeomen at first presented 
themselves as competitors, several of whom were 
rangers and underkeepers in the royal forests of 
Needwood and Charnwood. When, however, the 
archers understood with whom they were to be 
matched, upwards of twenty withdrew themselves 
from the contest, unwilling to encounter the dis- 
honor of almost certain defeat. For in those 

123 



124 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

days the skill of each celebrated marksman was 
as well known for many miles round him, as the 
qualities of a horse trained at Newmarket are 
familiar to those who frequent that well-known 
meeting. 

The diminished list of competitors for silvan 
fame still amounted to eight. Prince John stepped 
from his royal seat to view more nearly the per- 
sons of these chosen yeomen, several of whom 
wore the royal livery. Having satisfied his curi- 
osity by this investigation, he looked for the ob- 
ject of his resentment, 1 whom he observed stand- 
ing on the same spot, and with the same composed 
countenance which he had exhibited upon the 
preceding day. 

"Fellow," said Prince John, "I guessed by thy 
insolent babble thou wert no true lover of the 
long bow, and I see thou darest not adven- 
ture thy skill among such merry-men as stand 
yonder. " 

"Under favor, sir," replied the yeoman, "I 
have another reason for refraining to shoot, besides 
the fearing discomfiture and disgrace." 

"And what is thy other reason ?'' said Prince 
John, who, for some cause which perhaps he could 
not himself have explained, felt a painful curiosity 
respecting this individual. 

1 This was a yeoman who, by his free speech, had offended Prince John 
on the previous day. 



THE ARCHERY CONTEST 125 

'Because/' replied the woodsman, "I know not 
if these yeomen and I are used to shoot at the 
same marks ; and because, moreover, I know not 
how your Grace might relish the winning of a 
third prize by one who has unwittingly fallen under 
your displeasure/' 

Prince John colored as he put the question, 
"What is thy name, yeoman ?" 

"Locksley," answered the yeoman. 

"Then, Locksley," said Prince John, "thou 
shalt shoot in thy turn, when these yeomen have 
displayed their skill. If thou earnest the prize, 
I will add to it twenty nobles ; but if thou losest 
it, thou shalt be stript of thy Lincoln green, and 
scourged out of the lists with bowstrings, for a 
wordy and insolent braggart/' 

"And how if I refuse to shoot on such a wager ?" 
said the yeoman. — "Your Grace's power, sup- 
ported, as it is, by so many men at arms, may 
indeed easily strip and scourge me, but cannot 
compel me to bend or to draw my bow." 

"If thou refusest my fair proffer," said the 
prince, "the provost of the lists shall cut thy bow- 
string, break thy bow and arrows, and expel thee 
from the presence as a faint-hearted craven." 

"This is no fair chance you put on me, proud 
Prince," said the yeoman, "to compel me to peril 
myself against the best archers of Leicester and 
Staffordshire, under the penalty of infamy if they 



126 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

should overshoot me. Nevertheless, I will obey 
your pleasure." 

"Look to him close, men at arms/' said Prince 
John, "his heart is sinking; I am jealous lest he 
attempt to escape the trial. — And do you, good 
fellows, shoot boldly round ; a buck and a butt 
of wine are ready for your refreshment in yonder 
tent, when the prize is won." 

A target was placed at the upper end of the 
southern avenue which led to the lists. The 
contending archers took their station in turn, at 
the bottom of the southern access, the distance 
between that station and the mark allowing full 
distance for what was called a shot at rovers. 1 
The archers, having previously determined by 
lot their order of precedence, were to shoot each 
three shafts in succession. The sports were reg- 
ulated by an officer of inferior rank, termed the 
Provost of the Games ; for the high rank of the 
marshals of the lists would have been held de- 
graded, had they condescended to superintend the 
sports of the yeomanry. 

One by one the archers, stepping forward, de- 
livered their shafts yeomanlike and bravely. Of 
twenty-four arrows, shot in succession, ten were 
fixed in the target, and the others ranged so near 
it, that, considering the distance of the mark, it 
was accounted good archery. Of the ten shafts 

1 A long-distance shot. 



THE ARCHERY CONTEST 127 

which hit the target, two within the inner ring 
were shot by Hubert, a forester in the service of 
Malvoisin, who was accordingly pronounced vic- 
torious. 

"Now, Locksley," said Prince John to the bold 
yeoman, with a bitter smile, "wilt thou try con- 
clusions with Hubert, or wilt thou yield up bow, 
baldric, and quiver, to the provost of the sports ?" 

"Sith it be no better/' said Locksley, "I am 
content to try my fortune ; on condition that 
when I have shot two shafts at vonder mark of 

at 

Hubert's, he shall be bound to shoot one at that 
which I shall propose." 

"That is but fair," answered Prince John, "and 
it shall not be refused thee. — If thou dost beat 
this braggart, Hubert, I will fill the bugle with 
silver pennies for thee." 

A man can do but his best," answered Hubert ; 
but my grandsire drew a good long bow at Hast- 
ings, 1 and I trust not to dishonor his memory." 

The former target was now removed, and a 
fresh one of the same size placed in its room. 
Hubert, who, as victor in the first trial of skill, had 
the right to shoot first, took his aim with great 
deliberation, long measuring the distance with 
his eye, while he held in his hand his bended bow 7 , 
with the arrow placed on the string. At length 

1 The battle field where Duke William of Normandy conquered Harold, 
the last Saxon king. 






128 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

he made a step forward, and raising the bow at 
the full stretch of his left arm, till the center or 
grasping place was nigh level with his face, he 
drew his bowstring to his ear. The arrow whistled 
through the air, and lighted within the inner ring 
of the target, but not exactly in the center. 

"You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert," 
said his antagonist, bending his bow, "or that 
had been a better shot." 

So saying, and without showing the least anx- 
iety to pause upon his aim, Locksley stept to 
the appointed station, and shot his arrow as care- 
lessly in appearance as if he had not even looked 
at the mark. He was speaking almost at the 
instant that the shaft left the bowstring, yet it 
alighted in the target two inches nearer to the 
white spot which marked the center than that of 
Hubert. 

"By the light of heaven!" said Prince John 
to Hubert, "an thou suffer that runagate knave to 
overcome thee, thou art worthy of the gallows !" 

Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions. 

"An your highness were to hang me," he said, 
"a man can do but his best. Nevertheless, my 
grandsire drew a good bow" — 

"The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his 
generation!" interrupted John, "shoot, knave, 
and shoot thy best, or it shall be the worse for 
thee!" 



THE ARCHERY CONTEST 129 

Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and 
not neglecting the caution which he had received 
from his adversary, he made the necessary allow- 
ance for a very light air of wind, which had just 
arisen, and shot so successfully that his arrow 
alighted in the very center of the target. 

"A Hubert ! a Hubert !" shouted the populace, 
more interested in a known person than in a 
stranger. "In the clout ! — in the clout ! — a 
Hubert forever !" 

"Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley," 
said the prince, with an insulting smile. 

"I will notch his shaft for him, however," re- 
plied Locksley. 

And letting fly his arrow with a little more pre- 
caution than before, it lighted right upon that of 
his competitor, which it split to shivers. The 
people who stood around were so astonished at 
his wonderful dexterity, that they could not even 
give vent to their surprise in their usual clamor. 
"This must be the devil, and no man of flesh and 
blood," whispered the yeomen to each other ; 
"such archery was never seen since a bow was 
first bent in Britain." 

"And now," said Locksley, "I will crave your 
Grace's permission to plant such a mark as is 
used in the North Country ; and welcome every 
brave yeoman who shall try a shot at it to win a 
smile from the bonny lass he loves best." 



130 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

He then turned to leave the lists. "Let your 
guards attend me/' he said, "if you please — I go 
but to cut a rod from the next willow bush." 

Prince John made a signal that some attendants 
should follow him in case of his escape ; but the 
cry of "Shame ! shame \" which burst from the 
multitude, induced him to alter his ungenerous 
purpose. 

Locksley returned almost instantly with a 
willow wand about six feet in length, perfectly 
straight, and rather thicker than a man's thumb. 
He began to peel this with great composure, ob- 
serving at the same time, that to ask a good woods- 
man to shoot at a target so broad as had hitherto 
been used, was to put shame upon his skill. "For 
his own part," he said, "and in the land where he 
was bred, men would as soon take for their mark 
King Arthur's round-table, which held sixty 
knights around it. A child of seven years old," 
he said, "might hit yonder target with a headless 
shaft ; but," added he, walking deliberately to 
the other end of the lists, and sticking the willow 
wand upright in the ground, "he that hits that rod 
at fivescore yards, I call him an archer fit to bear 
both bow and quiver before a king, an it were the 
stout King Richard himself." 

"My grandsire," said Hubert, "drew a good 
bow at the battle of Hastings, and never shot at 
such a mark in his life — and neither will I. If 



THE ARCHERY CONTEST 131 

this yeoman can cleave that rod, I give him the 
bucklers — or rather, I yield to the devil that is 
in his jerkin, and not to any human skill ; a man 
can but do his best, and I will not shoot where I 
am sure to miss. I might as well shoot at the edge 
of our parson's whittle, 1 or at a wheat straw, or at 
a sunbeam, as at a twinkling white streak which 
I can hardly see/' 

"Cowardly dog !" said Prince John. — "Sirrah 
Locksley, do thou shoot ; but, if thou hittest such 
a mark, I will say thou art the first man ever did 
so. Howe'er it be, thou shalt not crow over us 
with a mere show of superior skill." 

"I will do my best, as Hubert says," answered 
Locksley; "no man can do more." 

So saying, he again bent his bow, but on the 
present occasion looked with attention to his 
weapon, and changed the string, which he thought 
was no longer truly round, having been a little 
frayed by the two former shots. He then took 
his aim with some deliberation, and the multitude 
awaited the event in breathless silence. The 
archer vindicated their opinion of his skill : his 
arrow split the willow rod against which it was 
aimed. A jubilee of acclamations followed ; and 
even Prince John, in admiration of Locksley's 
skill, lost for an instant his dislike to his person. 
"These twenty nobles," he said, "which, with the 

1 Knife, 



132 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

bugle, thou hast fairly won, are thine own ; we 
will make them fifty, if thou wilt take livery and 
service with us as a yeoman of our bodyguard, 
and be near our person. For never did so strong 
a hand bend a bow, or so true an eye direct a shaft/' 

"Pardon me, noble Prince/' said Locksley ; 
"but I have vowed, that if ever I take service, it 
should be with your royal brother King Richard. 
These twenty nobles I leave to Hubert, who has 
this day drawn as brave a bow as his grandsire did 
at Hastings. Had his modesty not refused the 
trial, he would have hit the wand as well as I." 

Hubert shook his head as he received with re- 
luctance the bounty of the stranger, and Locksley, 
anxious to escape further observation, mixed with 
the crowd, and was seen no more. 

From " Ivanhoe." 



REBECCA'S HYMN 

When Israel of the Lord beloved 

Out from the land of bondage came, 
Her father's God before her moved, 

An awful guide in smoke and flame. 
By day, along the astonished lands 

The cloudy pillar glided slow ; 
By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands 

Returned the fiery column's glow. 

There rose the choral hymn of praise, 

And trump and timbrel answered keen, 
And Zion's daughters poured their lays, 

With priest's and warrior's voice between. 
No portents now our foes amaze, 

Forsaken Israel wanders lone : 
Our fathers would not know Thy ways, 

And Thou hast left them to their own. 

But present still, though now unseen, 

When brightly shines the prosperous day, 
Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen 

To temper the deceitful ray ! 
And oh, when stoops on Judah's path 

In shade and storm the frequent night, 
Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, 

A burning and a shining light ! 

133 



134 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Our harps we left by Babel's streams, 

The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn ; 
No censer round our altar beams, 

And mute are timbrel, harp, and horn. 
But Thou hast said, " The blood of goat, 

The flesh of rams I will not prize ; 
A contrite heart, a humble thought, 

Are mine accepted sacrifice." 

From "Ivanhoe." 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 

[Cedric, his ward Rowena, the rich Jew Isaac, his daughter 
Rebecca, and Ivanhoe, while passing through a forest, were 
seized by the Norman knight Front de Boeuf and his fol- 
lowers. They were confined in his castle of Torquilstone, 
where De Bracy and Sir Brian demanded the hands of the 
women prisoners, and a heavy ransom from Isaac. Locksley 
and his men, however, accompanied by the Black Knight 
whose hand had proved so heavy at Ashby, laid siege to the 
castle. The desperate struggle that followed was watched 
by Rebecca and described to Ivanhoe who lay wounded in a 
room where she had taken refuge from Sir Brian.] 

The noise within the castle, occasioned by the 
defensive preparations which had been consider- 
able for some time, now increased into tenfold 
bustle and clamor. The heavy, yet hasty step 
of the men at arms traversed the battlements, or 
resounded on the narrow and winding passages 
and stairs which led to the various bartisans and 
points of defense. The voices of the knights were 
heard animating their followers or directing means 
of defense, while their commands were often 
drowned in the clashing of armor or the clamorous 
shouts of those whom they addressed. Tremen- 
dous as these sounds were, and yet more terrible 
from the awful event which they presaged, there 

135 



136 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

was a sublimity mixed with them which Rebecca's 
high-toned mind could feel even in that moment of 
terror. Her eye kindled, although the blood fled 
from her cheeks ; and there was a strong mixture 
of fear, and of a thrilling sense of the sublime, as 
she repeated, half whispering to herself, half speak- 
ing to her companion, the sacred text, 1 — "The 
quiver rattleth — the glittering spear and the 
shield — the noise of the captains and the shout- 
ing ! 

But Ivanhoe was like the war horse of that sub- 
lime passage, glowing with impatience at his in- 
activity, and with his ardent desire to mingle in 
the affray of which these sounds were the intro- 
duction. "If I could but drag myself/' he said, 
" to yonder window, that I might see how this brave 
game is like to go — If I had but bow to shoot a 
shaft, or battle ax to strike were it but a single 
blow for our deliverance ! — It is in vain — it is 
in vain — I am alike nerveless and weaponless !" 

"Fret not thyself, noble knight/' answered Re- 
becca, "that sounds have ceased of a sudden — it 
may be they join not battle." 

"Thou knowest nought of it," said Wilfred, 
impatiently; "this dead pause only shows that 
the men are at their posts on the walls, and ex- 
pecting an instant attack ; what we have heard 
was but the instant muttering of the storm — it 

1 Job xxxix, 23, 25. 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 137 

will burst anon in all its fury. — Could I but reach 
yonder window !" 

"Thou wilt but injure thyself by the attempt, 
noble knight/' replied his attendant. Observing 
his extreme solicitude, she firmly added, "I my- 
self will stand at the lattice, and describe to you 
as I can what passes without." 

"You must not — you shall not!" exclaimed 
Ivanhoe ; "each lattice, each aperture, will be 
soon a mark for the archers ; some random 
shaft" — 

"It shall be welcome !" murmured Rebecca, as 
with firm pace she ascended two or three steps, 
which led to the window of which they spoke. 

"Rebecca, dear Rebecca !" exclaimed Ivanhoe, 
"this is no maiden's pastime — do not expose thy- 
self to wounds and death, and render me forever 
miserable for having given the occasion ; at least, 
cover thyself with yonder ancient buckler, and 
show as little of your person at the lattice as may 
be." 

Following with wonderful promptitude the di- 
rections of Ivanhoe, and availing herself of the 
protection of the large ancient shield, which she 
placed against the lower part of the window, 
Rebecca, with tolerable security to herself, could 
witness part of what was passing without the castle, 
and report to Ivanhoe the preparations which the 
assailants were making for the storm. Indeed, 



138 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

the situation which she thus obtained was pecu- 
liarly favorable for this purpose, because, being 
placed on an angle of the main building, Rebecca 
could not only see what passed beyond the pre- 
cincts of the castle, but also commanded a view of 
the outwork likely to be the first object of the 
meditated assault. It was an exterior fortifica- 
tion of no great height or strength, intended to 
protect the postern gate, through which Cedric 
had been recently dismissed by Front de Boeuf. 
The castle moat divided this species of barbican 
from the rest of the fortress, so that, in case of its 
being taken, it was easy to cut off the communica- 
tion with the main building, by withdrawing the 
temporary bridge. In the outwork was a sally 
port corresponding to the postern of the castle, 
and the whole was surrounded by a strong palisade. 
Rebecca could observe, from the number of men 
placed for the defense of this post, that the be- 
sieged entertained apprehensions for its safety ; 
and from the mustering of the assailants in a di- 
rection nearly opposite to the outwork, it seemed 
no less plain that it had been selected as a vulner- 
able point of attack. 

These appearances she hastily communicated 
to Ivanhoe, and added, "The skirts of the wood 
seem lined with archers, although only a few are 
advanced from its dark shadow." 

"Under what banner ?" asked Ivanhoe. 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 



139 



" Under no ensign of war which I can observe/' 
answered Rebecca. 

"A singular novelty/' muttered the knight, "to 
advance to storm such a castle without pennon or 
banner displayed ! — Seest thou who they be that 
act as leaders ?" 

"A knight, clad in sable armor, is the most 
conspicuous/' said the Jewess ; "he alone is armed 
from head to heel, and seems to assume the direc- 
tion of all around him." 

"What device does he bear on his shield ?" 
replied Ivanhoe. 

"Something resembling a bar of iron, and a pad- 
lock painted blue on the black shield." 

"A fetterlock and shacklebolt azure !" said 
Ivanhoe. "I know not who may bear the device, 
but well I ween it might now be mine own. Canst 
thou not see the motto ?" 

"Scarce the device itself at this distance/' 
replied Rebecca; "but when the sun glances fair 
upon the shield, it shows as I tell you." 

"Seem there no other leaders ?" exclaimed the 
anxious inquirer. 

"None of mark and distinction that I can behold 
from this station," said Rebecca; "but, doubt- 
less, the other side of the castle is also assailed. 
They appear even now preparing to advance — 
God of Zion, protect us ! — What a dreadful sight ! 
— Those who advance first bear huge shields and 



140 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

defenses made of plank ; the others follow, bend- 
ing their bows, as they come on. — They raise 
their bows ! — God of Moses, forgive the creatures 
thou hast made !" 

Her description was here suddenly interrupted 
by the signal for assault, which was given by the 
blast of a shrill bugle, and at once answered by a 
flourish of the Norman trumpets from the battle- 
ments, which, mingled with the deep and hollow 
clang of the nakers (a species of kettledrum), 
retorted in notes of defiance the challenge of the 
enemy. The shouts of both parties augmented 
the fearful din, the assailants crying, "Saint George 
for merry England I" and the Normans answering 
them with loud cries of "En avant 1 De Bracy ! — 
Beauseant ! Beauseant ! — Front de Bceuf a la re- 
course 2 !' according to the warcries of their dif- 
ferent commanders. 

It was not, however, by clamor that the con- 
test was to be decided, and the desperate efforts 
of the assailants were met by an equally vigorous 
defense on the part of the besieged. The archers, 
trained by their woodland pastimes to the most 
effective use of the long bow, shot, to use the ap- 
propriate phrase of the time, so "wholly together," 
that no point at which a defender could show the 
least part of his person escaped their cloth-yard 
shafts. By this heavy discharge, which continued 

1 Forward. 2 To the rescue. 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 141 

as thick and sharp as hail, while, notwithstanding, 
every arrow had its individual aim, and flew by 
scores together against each embrasure and open- 
ing in the parapets, as well as at every window 
where a defender either occasionally had post or 
might be suspected to be stationed, — by this 
sustained discharge, two or three of the garrison 
were slain, and several others wounded. But, 
confident in their armor of proof, and in the cover 
which their situation afforded, the followers of 
Front de Boeuf, and his allies, showed an ob- 
stinacy in defense proportioned to the fury of the 
attack, and replied with the discharge of their 
large crossbows, as well as with their long bows, 
slings, and other missile weapons, to the close 
and continued shower of arrows ; and, as the 
assailants were necessarily but indifferently pro- 
tected, did considerably more damage than they 
received at their hand. The whizzing of shafts 
and of missiles, on both sides, was only inter- 
rupted by the shouts which arose when either 
side inflicted or sustained some notable loss. 

"And I must lie here like a bedridden monk," 
exclaimed Ivanhoe, "while the game that gives 
me freedom or death is played out by the hand of 
others ! — Look from the window once again, 
kind maiden, but beware that you are not marked 
by the archers beneath — Look out once more, 
and tell me if they yet advance to the storm." 



142 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

With patient courage, strengthened by the in- 
terval which she had employed in mental devotion, 
Rebecca again took post at the lattice, sheltering 
herself, however, so as not to be visible from be- 
neath. 

"What dost thou see, Rebecca ?" again de- 
manded the wounded knight. 

"Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick 
as to dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen 
who shoot them." 

'That cannot endure," said Ivanhoe ; "if they 
press not right on to carry the castle by pure force 
of arms, the archery may avail but little against 
stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the Knight 
of the Fetterlock, fair Rebecca, and see' how he 
bears himself ; for as the leader is, so will his fol- 
lowers be." 

"I see him not," said Rebecca. 

"Foul craven!" exclaimed Ivanhoe; "does he 
blench from the helm when the wind blows high- 
est ?" 

"He blenches not ! he blenches not !" said 
Rebecca, "I see him now ; he leads a body of men 
close under the outer barrier of the barbican. — 
They pull down the piles and palisades ; they hew 
down the barriers with axes. — His high black 
plume floats abroad over the throng, like a raven 
over the field of the slain. — They have made a 
breach in the barriers — they rush in — they are 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 143 

thrust back ! — Front de Boeuf heads the de- 
fenders ; I see his gigantic form above the press. 
They throng again to the breach, and the pass is 
disputed hand to hand, and man to man. God of 
Jacob ! it is the meeting of two fierce tides — the 
conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds !" 

She turned her head from the lattice, as if un- 
able longer to endure a sight so terrible. 

"Look forth again, Rebecca," said Ivanhoe, 
mistaking the cause of her retiring; "the archery 
must in some degree have ceased, since they are 
now fighting hand to hand. — Look again, there 
is now less danger." 

Rebecca again looked forth, and almost imme- 
diately exclaimed, "Holy prophets of the law! 
Front de Bceuf and the Black Knight fight hand 
to hand on the breach, amid the roar of their 
followers, who watch the progress of the strife — 
Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed 
and of the captive !" She then uttered a loud 
shriek, and exclaimed, "He is down! — he is 
down !" 

"Who is down ?" cried Ivanhoe ; "for our dear 
Lady's sake, tell me which has fallen ?" 

"The Black Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly ; 
then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness 
— "But no — but no ! — the name of the. Lord of 
Hosts be blessed ! — he is on foot again, and fights 
as if there were twenty men's strength in his single 



144 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

arm. — His sword is broken — he snatches an ax 
from a yeoman — he presses Front de Boeuf with 
blow on blow. — The giant stoops and totters like 
an oak under the steel of the woodman — he falls 

— he falls!" 

" Front de Boeuf ?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. 

"Front de Boeuf !" answered the Jewess; "'his 
men rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty 
Templar — their united force compels the cham- 
pion to pause. — They drag Front de Boeuf within 
the walls." 

"The assailants have won the barriers, have 
they not ?" said Ivanhoe. 

"They have — they have \" exclaimed Rebecca 

— "and they press the besieged hard upon the 
outer wall ; some plant ladders, some swarm like 
bees, and endeavor to ascend upon the shoulders 
of each other — down go stones, beams, and 
trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as 
they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men 
supply their places in the assault — Great God ! 
hast thou given men thine own image, that it 
should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of 
their brethren !" 

"Think not of that," said Ivanhoe; "this is 
no time for such thought. — Who yield ? — who 
push their way ?" 

"The ladders are thrown down," replied Re- 
becca, shuddering; "the soldiers lie groveling 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 145 

under them like crushed reptiles. — The besieged 
have the better/' 

"Saint George 1 strike for us !" exclaimed the 
knight; "do the false yeomen give way ?" 

"No !" exclaimed Rebecca, "they bear them- 
selves right yeomanly — the Black Knight ap- 
proaches the postern with his huge ax — the 
thundering blows which he deals, you may hear 
above all the din and shouts of the battle. — Stones 
and beams are hailed down on the bold champion 
— he regards them no more than if they were 
thistledown or feathers \" 

"By Saint John of Acre/' said Ivanhoe, raising 
himself joyfully on his couch, "methought there 
were but one man in England that might do such 
a deed \" 

The postern gate shakes/' continued Rebecca, 
it crashes — it is splintered by his blows — they 
rush in — the outwork is won. — Oh, God ! — 
they hurl the defenders from the battlements — 
they throw them into the moat. — O men, if ye 
be indeed men, spare them that can resist no 
longer !" 

"The bridge — the bridge which communicates 
with the castle — have they won that pass ? ,: 
exclaimed Ivanhoe. 

"No," replied Rebecca, "the Templar has de- 

1 A patron saint of the Crusaders ; afterwards adopted as patron saint 
of England. 






146 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

stroyed the plank on which they crossed — few of 
the defenders escaped with him into the castle — 
the shrieks and cries which you hear tell the fate 
of the others. — Alas ! — I see it is still more diffi- 
cult to look upon victory than upon battle/' 

"What do they now, maiden ?" said Ivanhoe ; 
"look forth yet again — this is no time to faint 
at bloodshed/' 

"It is over for the time/' answered Rebecca; 
"our friends strengthen themselves within the 
outwork which they have mastered, and it affords 
them so good a shelter from the foemen's shot, 
that the garrison only bestow a few bolts on it 
from interval to interval, as if rather to disquiet 
than effectually to injure them/' 

"Our friends," said Wilfred, "will surely not 
abandon an enterprise so gloriously begun and so 
happily attained. — Oh, no ! I will put my faith 
in the good knight whose ax hath rent heart-of- 
oak and bars of iron. — Singular," he again mut- 
tered to himself, "if there be two who can do a 
deed of such derring-do l ! — a fetterlock, and a 
shacklebolt on a field sable — what may that 
mean? — seest thou nought else, Rebecca, by 
which the Black Knight may be distinguished ? ,J 

"Nothing," said the Jewess; "all about him 
is black as the wing of the night raven. Nothing 
can I spy that can mark him further — but having 

1 Desperate courage. 



THE BESIEGED CASTLE 147 

once seen him put forth his strength in battle, 
methinks I could know him again among a thou- 
sand warriors. He rushes to the fray as if he were 
summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere 
strength, there seems as if the whole soul and 
spirit of the champion were given to every blow 
which he deals upon his enemies. God assoilzie 
him of the sin of bloodshed ! — it is fearful, yet 
magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart 
of one man can triumph over hundreds. " 

"Rebecca," said Ivanhoe, "thou hast painted a 
hero ; surely they rest but to refresh their force, 
or to provide the means of crossing the moat. — 
Under such a leader as thou hast spoken this 
knight to be, there are no craven fears, no cold- 
blooded delays, no yielding up a gallant emprise ; 
since the difficulties which render it arduous ren- 
der it also glorious. I swear by the honor of my 
house — I vow by the name of my bright lady- 
love, I would endure ten years' captivity to fight 
one day by that good knight's side in such a quar- 
rel as this \" 

From " Ivanhoe." 



PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU 1 

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 

Pibroch of Donuil, 
Wake thy wild voice anew, 

Summon Clan Conuil. 
Come away, come away, 

Hark to the summons ! 
Come in your war array, 

Gentles and commons. 

Come from the deep glen and 

From mountain so rocky, 
The war pipe and pennon 

Are at Inverlochy. 
Come every hill plaid and 

True heart that wears one, 
Come every steel blade and 

Strong hand that bears one. 

Leave untended the herd, 
The flock without shelter ; 

Leave the corpse uninterred, 
The bride at the altar ; 

1 This is a very ancient pibroch belonging to Clan MacDonald and is 
supposed to refer to the time when, in 143 1, Donald Balloch of the Isles 
put to flight the Earls of Mar and Cathness at Inverlochy. 

148 



PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU 149 

Leave the deer, leave the steer, 

Leave nets and barges : 
Come with your fighting gear, 

Broadswords and targes. 

Come as the winds come when 

Forests are rended ; 
Come as the waves come when 

Navies are stranded : 
Faster come, faster come, 

Faster and faster, 
Chief, vassal, page and groom, 

Tenant and master. 

Fast they come, fast they come ; 

See how they gather ! 
Wide waves the eagle plume, 

Blended with heather. 
Cast your plaids, draw your blades, 

Forward each man set ! 
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 

Knell for the onset ! 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 

[It is a well-authenticated fact that in 1396 two powerful 
Scottish clans deputed thirty champions each to fight out a 
quarrel of long standing. This took place at Perth in the 
presence of King Robert III, his brother the Duke of Albany, 
and the whole court of Scotland. As Sir Walter says, this 
seems "to mark with equal distinctness the rancor of these 
mountain feuds, and the degraded condition of the general 
government of the country." 

In Sir Walter's story of the battle these are the principal 
characters (in the order of their appearance) : — 

Torquil of the Oak, foster father to Eachin Maclan. 

He and his eight sons, all formidable fighters, engage in 

the combat. 
Eachin MacIan, or Hector, Chief of Clan Quhele. 
MacGillie Chattanach, Chief of Clan Chattan. 
Ferquhard Day, the deserting warrior of Clan Chattan. 
Lord Marshal, the Earl of Crawford. 
High Constable, see Errol, Earl of. 
Henry of the Wynd, or Henry Smith, a skilled armorer, 

and the most renowned swordsman of Perth. 
Errol, Earl of, Sir Gilbert Hay, Lord High Constable 

of Scotland. 
Hector, see Eachin Maclan. 
Norman of the Hammer, son of Torquil. 
Tormot, the youngest son of Torquil.] 

Palm Sunday now dawned. At an earlier 
period of the Christian Church, the use of any of 

151 



152 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

the days of Passion Week for the purpose of com- 
bat would have been accounted a profanity worthy 
of excommunication. The Church of Rome, to 
her infinite honor, had decided, that during the 
holy season of Easter, when the redemption of 
man from his fallen state was accomplished, the 
sword of war should be sheathed, and angry mon- 
archs should respect the season termed the Truce 
of God. The ferocious violence of the latter wars 
betwixt Scotland and England had destroyed all 
observance of this decent and religious ordinance. 
Very often the most solemn occasions were chosen 
by one party for an attack, because they hoped 
to find the other engaged in religious duties, and 
unprovided for defense. Thus the truce, once 
considered as proper to the season, had been dis- 
continued ; and it became not unusual even to 
select the sacred festivals of the church for de- 
cision of the trial by combat, to which this in- 
tended contest bore a considerable resemblance. 

On the present occasion, however, the duties of 
the day were observed with the usual solemnity, 
and the combatants themselves took share in them. 
Bearing branches of yew in their hands, as the 
readiest substitute for palm boughs, they marched 
respectively to the Dominican and Carthusian 
convents, to hear High Mass, and, by a show at 
least of devotion, to prepare themselves for the 
bloody strife of the day. Great care had of course 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 153 

been taken, that, during this march, they should 
not even come within the sound of each other's 
bagpipes ; for it was certain that, like gamecocks 
exchanging mutual notes of defiance, they would 
have sought out and attacked each other before 
they arrived at the place of combat. 

The citizens of Perth crowded to see the unusual 
procession on the streets, and thronged the 
churches where the two clans attended their de- 
votions, to witness their behavior, and to form a 
judgment from their appearance which was most 
likely to obtain the advantage in the approaching 
conflict. Their demeanor in the church, although 
not habitual frequenters of places of devotion, 
was perfectly decorous ; and, notwithstanding 
their wild and untamed dispositions, there were 
few of the mountaineers who seemed affected 
either with curiosity or wonder. They appeared 
to think it beneath their dignity of character to 
testify either curiosity or surprise at many things 
which were probably then presented to them for 
the first time. 

On the issue of the combat, few even of the most 
competent judges dared venture a prediction ; 
although the great size of Torquil and his eight 
stalwart sons induced some, who professed them- 
selves judges of the thews and sinews of men, to 
incline to ascribe the advantage to the party of 
the Clan Quhele. The opinion of the female sex 



154 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

was much decided by the handsome form, noble 
countenance, and gallant demeanor of Eachin 
Maclan. 

Presently the religious service of the day was 
ended ; and those who had so lately borne palms 
in honor of the great event which brought peace 
on earth, and good will to the children of men, 
were now streaming to the place of combat ; some 
prepared to take the lives of their fellow creatures, 
or to lose their own ; others to view the deadly 
strife, with the savage delight which the heathens 
took in the contests of their gladiators. 

The pipers of the Clan Chattan marched at the 
head of their column. Next followed the well- 
known banner, displaying a mountain cat ram- 
pant, with the appropriate caution, — "Touch not 
the cat but (i.e., without) the glove/' The Chief 
followed with his two-handed sword advanced, 
as if to protect the emblem of the tribe. He was 
a man of middle stature, more than fifty years 
old, but betraying, neither in features nor form, 
any decay of strength, or symptoms of age. His 
dark-red, close-curled locks were in part checkered 
by a few grizzled hairs, but his step and gesture 
were as light in the dance, in the chase, or in the 
battle, as if he had not passed his thirtieth year. 
His gray eye gleamed with a wild light expressive 
of valor and ferocity mingled ; but wisdom and 
experience dwelt on the expression of his forehead, 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 155 

eyebrows, and lips. The chosen champions fol- 
lowed by two and two. There was a cast of anx- 
iety on several of their faces, for they had that 
morning discovered the absence of one of their 
appointed number ; and, in a contest so desperate 
as was expected, the loss seemed a matter of im- 
portance to all save to their high-mettled Chief, 
MacGillie Chattanach. 

"Say nothing to the Saxons of his absence," 
said this bold leader, when the diminution of his 
force was reported to him. "The false Lowland 
tongues might say that one of Clan Chattan was 
a coward, and perhaps that the rest favored his 
escape, in order to have a pretense to avoid the 
battle. Am not I man enough for two of the Clan 
Quhele ? or would we not fight them fifteen to 
thirty, rather than lose the renown that this day 
will bring us ?" 

The tribe received the brave speech of their 
leader with applause, yet there were anxious looks 
thrown out in hopes of espying the return of the 
deserter ; and perhaps the Chief himself was the 
only one of the determined band who was totally 
indifferent on the subject. MacGillie Chattanach 
marched on without seeming to observe the ab- 
sence of the deserter, and entered upon the North 
Inch, a beautiful and level plain, closely adjacent to 
the city, and appropriated to the martial exercises 
of the inhabitants. 



156 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

The plain is washed on one side by the deep 
and swelling Tay. There was erected within it a 
strong palisade, inclosing on three sides a space 
of one hundred and fifty yards in length, and 
seventy-four yards in width. The fourth side of 
the lists was considered as sufficiently fenced by 
the river. An amphitheater for the accommoda- 
tion of spectators surrounded the palisade, leaving 
a large space free to be occupied by armed men 
on foot and horseback, and for the more ordinary 
class of spectators. At the extremity of the lists, 
which was nearest to the city, there was a range 
of elevated galleries for the King and his courtiers, 
so highly decorated with rustic treillage, 1 inter- 
mingled with gilded ornaments, that the spot 
retains to this day the name of the Golden, or 
Gilded Arbor. 

The mountain minstrelsy, which sounded the 
appropriate pibrochs or battle tunes of the rival 
confederacies, was silent when they entered on 
the Inch, for such was the order which had been 
given. Two stately, but aged warriors, each 
bearing the banner of his tribe, advanced to the 
opposite extremities of the lists, and pitching their 
standards into the earth, prepared to be spectators 
of a fight in which they were not to join. The 
pipers, who were also to be neutral in the strife, 
took their places by their respective brattachs. 2 

1 Latticework. 2 Standards. 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 157 

The multitude received both bands with the 
same general shout, with which on similar occa- 
sions they welcome those from whose exertion 
they expect amusement, or what they term sport. 
The destined combatants returned no answer to 
this greeting, but each party advanced to the 
opposite extremities of the lists, where were en- 
trances by which they were to be admitted to the 
interior. The Chief of the Clan Chattan de- 
clared himself willing and desirous of fighting 
upon the spot, without regard to the disparity 
of numbers. 

"That," said Torquil of the Oak, "Clan Quhele 
will never consent to. You can never win honor 
from us with the sword, and you seek but a sub- 
terfuge, that you may say when you are defeated, 
as you know you will be, that it was for want of 
the number of your band fully counted out. But 
I make a proposal — Ferquhard Day was the 
youngest of your band, Eachin Maclan is the 
youngest of ours — we will set him aside in place 
of the man who has fled from the combat/' 

"A most unjust and unequal proposal," ex- 
claimed Toshach Beg, the second, as he might be 
termed, of MacGillie Chattanach. "The life of 
the Chief is to the clan the breath of our nostrils, 
nor will we ever consent that our Chief shall be 
exposed to dangers which the Captain of Clan 
Quhele does not share." 



158 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Hear me, Lord Marshal/' said the Constable. 
"The hour of combat may not be much longer 
postponed, for the day approaches to high noon. 
Let the Chief of Clan Chattan take the half hour 
which remains, to find, if he can, a substitute for 
this deserter ; if he cannot, let them fight as they 
stand." 

"Content I am," said the Marshal, "though, as 
none of his own clan are nearer than fifty miles, 
I see not how MacGillie Chattanach is to find an 
auxiliary." 

"That is his business," said the High Constable ; 
"but if he offers a high reward, there are enough 
of stout yeomen surrounding the lists, who will 
be glad enough to stretch their limbs in such a 
game as is expected. I myself, did my quality 
and charge permit, would blithely take a turn of 
work amongst these wild fellows, and think it 
fame won." 

They communicated their decision to the High- 
landers, and the Chief of the Clan Chattan re- 
plied, — "You have judged impartially and nobly, 
my lords, and I deem myself obliged to follow your 
direction. — So make proclamation, heralds, that 
if anv one will take his share with Clan Chattan 
of the honors and chances of this day, he shall 
have present payment of a gold crown, and liberty 
to fight to the death in my ranks." 

"You are something chary of your treasure, 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 159 

Chief/' said the Earl Marshal; "a gold crown is 
poor payment for such a campaign as is before 
you." 

"If there be any man willing to fight for honor/' 
replied MacGillie Chattanach, "the price will be 
enough ; and I want not the service of a fellow 
who draws his sword for gold alone." 

The heralds had made their progress, moving 
halfway round the lists, stopping from time to 
time, to make proclamation as they had been 
directed, without the least apparent disposition 
on the part of any one to accept of the proffered 
enlistment. Some sneered at the poverty of the 
Highlanders, who set so mean a price upon such a 
desperate service. Others affected resentment, 
that they should esteem the blood of citizens 
so lightly. None showed the slightest inten- 
tion to undertake the task proposed, until the 
sound of the proclamation reached Henry of the 
Wynd. 

"Ha ! what proclaim they ?" he cried out. 

"A liberal offer on the part of MacGillie Chat- 
tanach/' said the Host of the Griffin, "who pro- 
poses a gold crown to any one who will turn wild 
cat for the day, and be killed a little in his service ! 
That's all." 

"How!" exclaimed the smith, eagerly, "do 
they make proclamation for a man to fight against 
the Clan Quhele?" 



160 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 



"Ay, marry do they/' said Griffin; 'but I 
think they will find no such fools in Perth." 

He had hardly said the word, when he beheld the 
smith clear the barriers at a single bound, and 
alight in the lists, saying, "Here am I, Sir Herald, 
Henry of the Wynd, willing to do battle on the 
part of the Clan Chattan." 

A cry of admiration ran through the multitude, 
while the grave burghers, not being able to con- 
ceive the slightest reason for Henry's behavior, 
concluded that his head must be absolutely turned 
with the love of fighting. The Provost was es- 
pecially shocked. 

"Thou art mad," he said, "Henry ! Thou hast 
neither two-handed sword nor shirt of mail." 

"Truly no," said Henry, "for I parted with a 
mail-shirt, which I had made for myself, to yonder 
gay Chief of the Clan Quhele, who will soon find 
on his shoulders with what sort of blows I clink 
my rivets ! As for two-handed sword, why this 
boy's brand will serve my turn till I can master a 
heavier one." 

"This must not be," said Errol. "Hark thee, 
armorer, by Saint Mary, thou shalt have my 
Milan hauberk and good Spanish sword." 

"I thank your noble earlship, Sir Gilbert Hay; 
but the yoke with which your brave ancestor 
turned the battle at Loncarty would serve my 
turn well enough. I am little used to sword or 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 161 

harness that I have not wrought myself, because 
I do not well know what blows the one will bear 
out without being cracked, or the other lay on 
without snapping/' 

The cry had in the meanwhile run through the 
multitude, and passed into the town, that the 
dauntless smith was about to fight without armor, 
when, just as the fated hour was approaching, 
the shrill voice of a woman was heard screaming 
for passage through the crowd. The multitude 
gave place to her importunity, and she advanced, 
breathless with haste, under the burden of a mail 
hauberk and a large two-handed sword. Henry 
joyfully received the well-known arms, and the 
woman with trembling haste assisted in putting 
them on, and then took leave of him, saying, 
"God for the champion of the widow and orphan, 
and ill luck to all who come before him !' 5 

Confident at feeling himself in his well-proved 
armor, Henry shook himself as if to settle the 
steel shirt around him, and, unsheathing the two- 
handed sword, made it flourish over his head, 
cutting the air through which it whistled in the 
form of the figure eight, with an ease and sleight 
of hand, that proved how powerfully and skillfully 
he could wield the ponderous weapon. The 
champions were now ordered to march in their 
turns around the lists, crossing so as to avoid 
meeting each other, and making obeisance as they 



162 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

passed the Golden Arbor where the king was 
seated. 

While this course was performing, most of the 
spectators were again curiously comparing the 
stature, limbs, and sinews of the two parties, and 
endeavoring to form a conjecture as to the prob- 
able issue of the combat. The feud of a hundred 
years, with all its acts of aggression and retalia- 
tion, was concentrated in the bosom of each com- 
batant. Their countenances seemed fiercely 
writhen into the wildest expression of pride, hate, 
and a desperate purpose of fighting to the very last. 

The spectators murmured a joyful applause, 
in high-wrought expectation of the bloody game. 
Wagers were offered and accepted, both on the 
general issue of the conflict and on the feats of 
particular champions. The clear, frank, and elated 
look of Henry Smith rendered him a general 
favorite among the spectators, and odds, to use 
the modern expression, were taken, that he would 
kill three of his opponents before he himself fell. 
Scarcely was the smith equipped for the combat, 
when the commands of the chiefs ordered the 
champions into their places. 

Both parties were disposed by the respective 
chiefs in three lines, each containing ten men. 
They were arranged with such intervals between 
each individual as offered him scope to wield his 
sword, the blade of which was five feet long, not 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 163 

including the handle. The second and third lines 
were to come up as reserves, in case the first ex- 
perienced disaster. On the right of the array of 
Clan Quhele, the chief, Eachin Maclan, placed 
himself in the second line betwixt two of his foster 
brothers. Four of them occupied the right of the 
first line, whilst the father and two others pro- 
tected the rear of the beloved chieftain. Torquil, 
in particular, kept close behind, for the purpose 
of covering him. Thus Eachin stood in the center 
of nine of the strongest men of his band, having 
four especial defenders in front, one on each hand, 
and three in his rear. 

The line of the Clan Chattan was arranged in 
precisely the same order, only that the chief oc- 
cupied the center of the middle rank, instead of 
being on the extreme right. This induced Henry 
Smith, who saw in the opposing bands only one 
enemy, and that was the unhappy Eachin, to 
propose placing himself on the left of the front 
rank of the Clan Chattan. But the leader dis- 
approved of this arrangement ; and having re- 
minded Henry that he owed him obedience, as 
having taken wages at his hand, he commanded 
him to occupy the space in the third line, imme- 
diately behind himself, — a post of honor, cer- 
tainly, which Henry could not decline, though he 
accepted of it with reluctance. 

When the clans were thus drawn up opposed 



164 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

to each other, they intimated their feudal ani- 
mosity, and their eagerness to engage, by a wild 
scream, which, uttered by the Clan Quhele, was 
answered and echoed back by the Clan Chattan, 
the whole at the same time shaking their swords, 
and menacing each other, as if they meant to con- 
quer the imagination of their opponents ere they 
mingled in the actual strife. 

The trumpets of the king sounded a charge, 
the bagpipes blew up their screaming and madden- 
ing notes, and the combatants, starting forward 
in regular order, and increasing their pace till they 
came to a smart run, met together in the center 
of the ground, as a furious land torrent encounters 
an advancing tide. 

For an instant or two the front lines, hewing at 
each other with their long swords, seemed engaged 
in a succession of single combats ; but the second 
and third ranks soon came up on either side, 
actuated alike by the eagerness of hatred and the 
thirst of honor, pressed through the intervals, 
and rendered the scene a tumultuous chaos, over 
which the huge swords rose and sunk, some still 
glittering, others streaming with blood, appearing, 
from the wild rapidity with which they were 
swayed, rather to be put in motion by some com- 
plicated machinery than to be wielded by human 
hands. Some of the combatants, too much 
crowded together to use those long weapons, had 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 165 

already betaken themselves to their poniards, 
and endeavored to get within the sword sweep of 
those opposed to them. In the meantime, blood 
flowed fast, and the groans of those who fell began 
to mingle with the cries of those who fought ; for, 
according to the manner of the Highlanders at 
all times, they could hardly be said to shout, but 
to yell. Those of the spectators, whose eyes were 
best accustomed to such scenes of blood and con- 
fusion, could nevertheless discover no advantage 
yet acquired by either party. The conflict swayed, 
indeed, at different intervals forwards or back- 
wards, but it was only in momentary superiority, 
which the party who acquired it almost instantly 
lost by a corresponding exertion on the other side. 
The wild notes of the pipers were still heard above 
the tumult, and stimulated to farther exertions 
the fury of the combatants. 

At once, however, and as if by mutual agree- 
ment, the instruments sounded a retreat ; it was 
expressed in wailing notes, which seemed to imply 
a dirge for the fallen. The two parties disengaged 
themselves from each other, to take breath for a 
few minutes. The eyes of the spectators greedily 
surveyed the shattered array of the combatants 
as they drew off from the contest, but found it 
still impossible to decide what had sustained the 
greater loss. It seemed as if the Clan Chattan 
had lost rather fewer men than their antagonists ; 



1 66 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

but in compensation, the bloody plaids and shirts 
of their party (for several on both sides had thrown 
their mantles away) showed more wounded men 
than the Clan Quhele. About twenty of both 
sides lay on the field dead or dying ; and arms 
and legs lopped off, heads cleft to the chin, slashes 
deep through the shoulder into the breast, showed 
at once the fury of the combat, the ghastly charac- 
ter of the weapons used, and the fatal strength of 
the arms which wielded them. The Chief of the 
Clan Chattan had behaved himself with the most 
determined courage, and was slightly wounded. 
Eachin also had fought with spirit, surrounded 
by his bodyguard. His sword was bloody ; his 
bearing bold and warlike ; and he smiled when 
old Torquil, folding him in his arms, loaded him 
with praises and with blessings. 

The two chiefs, after allowing their followers 
to breathe for the space of about ten minutes, 
again drew up in their files, diminished by nearly 
one third of their original number. They now 
chose their ground nearer to the river than that 
on which they had formerly encountered, which 
was encumbered with the wounded and the slain. 
Some of the former were observed, from time to 
time, to raise themselves to gain a glimpse of the 
field, and sink back, most of them to die from the 
effusion of blood which poured from the terrific 
gashes inflicted by the claymore. 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 167 

Harry Smith was easily distinguished by his 
Lowland habit, as well as his remaining on the 
spot where they had first encountered, where 
he stood leaning on a sword beside a corpse, 
whose bonneted head, carried to ten yards' dis- 
tance from the body by the force of the blow 
which had swept it off, exhibited the oak leaf, 
the appropriate ornament of the bodyguard of 
Eachin Maclan. Since he slew this man, Henry 
had not struck a blow, but had contented himself 
with warding off many that were dealt at himself, 
and some which were aimed at the chief. Mac- 
Gillie Chattanach became alarmed, when, having 
given the signal that his men should again draw 
together, he observed that his powerful recruit 
remained at a distance from the ranks, and showed 
little disposition to join them. 

"What ails thee, man ?" said the chief. "Can 
so strong a body have a mean and cowardly spirit ? 
Come, and make in to the combat." 

''You as good as called me hireling but now," 
replied Henry — "If I am such," pointing to the 
headless corpse, "I have done enough for my day's 
wage." 

"He that serves me without counting his hours," 
replied the chief, "I reward him without reckoning 
wages." 

"Then," said the smith, "I fight as a volunteer, 
and in the post which best likes me." 



1 68 TALES AND VERSE FROM' SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"All that is at your own discretion/' replied 
MacGillie Chattanach, who saw the prudence of 
humoring an auxiliary of such promise. 

"It is enough/' said Henry; and shouldering 
his heavy weapon, he joined the rest of the com- 
batants with alacrity, and placed himself opposite 
to the Chief of the Clan Quhele. 

It was then, for the first time, that Eachin 
showed some uncertainty. He had long looked 
up to Henry as the best combatant which Perth 
and its neighborhood could bring into the lists ; 
and when he beheld him with his eyes fixed in 
his direction, the dripping sword in his hand, and 
obviously meditating an attack on him individ- 
ually, his courage fell, and he gave symptoms of 
wavering which did not escape his foster father. 

It was lucky for Eachin that Torquil was in- 
capable, from the formation of his own temper, 
and that of those with whom he had lived, to 
conceive the idea of one of his own tribe, much 
less of his chief and foster son, being deficient 
in animal courage. Could he have imagined this, 
his grief and rage might have driven him to the 
fierce extremity of taking Eachin's life, to save 
him from staining his honor. But his mind re- 
jected the idea that his Dault was a personal 
coward, as something which was monstrous and 
unnatural. That he was under the influence of 
enchantment was a solution which superstition 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 169 

had suggested, and he now anxiously, but in a 
whisper, demanded of Hector, "Does the spell 
now darken thy spirit, Eachin ?" 

"Yes, wretch that I am," answered the un- 
happy youth; "and yonder stands the fell en- 
chanter \" 

"What \ 9i exclaimed Torquil, "and you wear 
harness of his making ? — Norman, miserable 
boy, why brought you that accursed mail ?" 

"If my arrow has flown astray, I can but shoot 
my life after it," answered Norman-nan-Ord. 
"Stand firm, you shall see me break the spell." 

"Yes, stand firm," said Torquil. "He may be 
a fell enchanter ; but my own ear has heard, and 
my own tongue has told, that Eachin shall leave 
the battle whole, free, and unwounded — let us 
see the Saxon wizard who can gainsay that. He 
may be a strong man, but the fair forest of the 
oak shall fall, stock and bough, ere he lay a finger 
on my Dault. Ring around him, my sons, — 
'Bas air son Eachin ! ' 

The sons of Torquil shouted back the words, 
which signify, "Death for Hector." 

Encouraged by their devotion, Eachin renewed 
his spirit, and called boldly to the minstrels of his 
clan, " Seid suas" that is, "Strike up." 

The wild pibroch again sounded the onset ; 
but the two parties approached each other more 
slowly than at first, as men who knew and respected 



170 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

each other's valor. Henry Wynd, in his impa- 
tience to begin the contest, advanced before the 
Clan Chattan, and signed to Eachin to come on. 
Norman, however, sprang forward to cover his 
foster brother, and there was a general, though 
momentary pause, as if both parties were willing 
to obtain an omen of the fate of the day, from the 
event of this duel. The Highlander advanced, 
with his large sword uplifted, as in act to strike ; 
but just as he came within sword's length, he 
dropt the long and cumbrous weapon, leapt lightly 
over the smith's sword, as he fetched a cut at 
him, drew his dagger, and being thus within 
Henry's guard, struck him with the weapon (his 
own gift) on the side of the throat, directing the 
blow downwards into the chest, and calling aloud, 
at the same time, "You taught me the stab !" 

But Henry Wynd wore his own good hauberk, 
doubly defended, with a lining of tempered steel. 
Had he been less surely armed, his combats had 
been ended forever. Even as it was, he was 
slightly wounded. 

"Fool!" he replied, striking Norman a blow 
with the pommel of his long sword, which made 
him stagger backwards, "you were taught the 
thrust, but not the parry" ; and fetching a blow 
at his antagonist, which cleft his skull through the 
steel cap, he strode over the lifeless body to engage 
the young chief, who now stood open before him. 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 171 

But the sonorous voice of Torquil thundered 
out, "Far eil air son Eachin!' (Another for 
Hector !) and the two brethren, who flanked their 
chief on each side, thrust forward upon Henry, 
and, striking both at once, compelled him to keep 
the defensive. 

"Forward, race of the Tiger Cat V cried Mac- 
Gillie Chattanach ; "save the brave Saxon; let 
these kites feel your talons \" 

Already much wounded, the chief dragged 
himself up to the smith's assistance, and cut 
down one of the Leichtach, by whom he was as- 
sailed. Henry's own good sword rid him of the 
other. 

" Reist air son Eachin!' (Again for Hector), 
shouted the faithful foster father. 

" Bas air son Eachin!' (Death for Hector), 
answered two more of his devoted sons, and op- 
posed themselves to the fury of the smith and 
those who had come to his aid ; while Eachin, 
moving towards the left wing of the battle, sought 
less formidable adversaries, and again, by some 
show of valor, revived the sinking hopes of his 
followers. The two children of the oak, who had 
covered this movement, shared the fate of their 
brethren ; for the cry of the Clan Chattan chief 
had drawn to that part of the field some of his 
bravest warriors. The sons of Torquil did not 
fall unavenged, but left dreadful marks of their 



172 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

swords on the persons of the dead and living. 
But the necessity of keeping their most dis- 
tinguished soldiers around the person of their 
chief told to disadvantage on the general event 
of the combat ; and so few were now the number 
who remained fighting, that it was easy to see that 
the Clan Chattan had fifteen of their number 
left, though most of them wounded ; and that 
of the Clan Quhele, only about ten remained, of 
whom there were four of the chiefs bodyguard, 
including Torquil himself. 

They fought and struggled on, however, and as 
their strength decayed, their fury seemed to in- 
crease. Henry Wynd, now wounded in many 
places, was still bent on breaking through, or ex- 
terminating, the band of bold hearts who con- 
tinued to fight around the object of his animosity. 
But still the father's shout of "Another for Hec- 
tor !" was cheerfully answered by the fatal counter- 
sign, "Death for Hector!" and though the Clan 
Quhele were now outnumbered, the combat seemed 
still dubious. It was bodily lassitude alone that 
again compelled them to another pause. 

The Clan Chattan were then observed to be 
twelve in number, but two or three were scarce 
able to stand without leaning on their swords. 
Five were left of the Clan Quhele ; Torquil and 
his youngest son were of the number, both slightly 
wounded. Eachin alone had, from the vigilance 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 173 

used to intercept all blows leveled against his 
person, escaped without injury. The rage of 
both parties had sunk, through exhaustion, into 
sullen desperation. They walked staggering, as if 
in their sleep, through the carcasses of the slain, 
and gazed on them, as if again to animate their 
hatred towards their surviving enemies, by view- 
ing the friends they had lost. 

The multitude soon after beheld the survivors 
of the desperate conflict drawing together to re- 
new the exterminating feud on the banks of the 
river, as the spot least slippery with blood, and less 
encumbered with the bodies of the slain. 

"For God's sake — for the sake of the mercy 
which we daily pray for/ 5 said the kind 7 hearted 
old king to the Duke of Albany, "let this be 
ended ! Wherefore should these wretched rags 
and remnants of humanity be suffered to 
complete their butchery ? — Surely they will 
now be ruled, and accept of peace on moderate 
terms ?" 

"Compose yourself, my liege/' said his brother. 
"These men are the pest of the Lowlands. Both 
chiefs are still living — if they go back unharmed, 
the whole day's work is cast away. Remember 
your promise to the council, that you would not 
cry hold." 

"You compel me to a great crime, Albany, 
both as a king, who should protect his subjects, 



174 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

and as a Christian man, who respects the brother 
of his faith/' 

"You judge wrong, my lord/' said the Duke; 
"these are not loving subjects, but disobedient 
rebels, as my Lord of Crawford can bear witness ; 
and they are still less Christian men, for the Prior 
of the Dominicans will vouch for me, that they 
are more than half heathen." 

The King sighed deeply. "You must work 
your pleasure, and are too wise for me to contend 
with. I can but turn away, and shut my eyes 
from the sights and sounds of a carnage which 
makes me sicken. But well I know that God 
will punish me even for witnessing this waste of 
human life." 

" Sound, trumpets," said Albany ; " their wounds 
will stiffen if they dally longer." 

While this was passing, Torquil was embracing 
and encouraging his young chief. 

"Resist the witchcraft but a few minutes longer ! 
Be of good cheer — you will come off without 
either scar or scratch, wem or wound. Be of 
good cheer !" 

How can I be of good cheer," said Eachin, 
while my brave kinsmen have one by one died 
at my feet ? — died all for me, who could never 
deserve the least of their kindness !" 

"And for what were they born, save to die for 
their chief?" said Torquil composedly. 'Why 






THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 175 

lament that the arrow returns not to the quiver, 
providing it hit the mark ? Cheer up yet — Here 
are Tormot and I but little hurt, while the wild- 
cats drag themselves through the plain as if they 
were half throttled by the terriers — Yet one 
brave stand, and the day shall be your own, 
though it may well be that you alone remain 
alive. — Minstrels, sound the gathering !' 3 

The pipers on both sides blew their charge, and 
the combatants again mingled in battle, not in- 
deed with the same strength, but with unabated 
inveteracy. They were joined by those whose 
duty it was to have remained neuter, but who 
now found themselves unable to do so. The two 
old champions who bore the standards had grad- 
ually advanced from the extremity of the lists, 
and now approached close to the immediate scene 
of action. When they beheld the carnage more 
nearly, they were mutually impelled by the desire 
to revenge their brethren, or not to survive them. 
They attacked each other furiously with the 
lances to which the standards were attached, 
closed after exchanging several deadly thrusts, 
then grappled in close strife, still holding their 
banners, until at length, in the eagerness of their 
conflict, they fell together into the Tay, and were 
found drowned after the combat, closely locked 
in each other's arms. The fury of battle, the 
frenzy of rage and despair, infected next the 



176 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

minstrels. The two pipers, who, during the con- 
flict, had done their utmost to keep up the spirits 
of their brethren, now saw the dispute well-nigh 
terminated for want of men to support it. They 
threw down their instruments, rushed desperately 
upon each other with their daggers, and each 
being more intent on despatching his opponent 
than in defending himself, the piper of Clan Quhele 
was almost instantly slain, and he of Clan Chattan 
mortally wounded. The last, nevertheless, again 
grasped his instrument, and the pibroch of the clan 
yet poured its expiring notes over the Clan Chattan, 
while the dying minstrel had breath to inspire it. 
Meanwhile, in the final charge, young Tormot, 
devoted, like his brethren, by his father Torquil 
to the protection of his chief, had been mortally 
wounded by the unsparing sword of the smith. 
The other two remaining of the Clan Quhele had 
also fallen, and Torquil, with his foster son, and 
the wounded Tormot, forced to retreat before 
eight or ten of the Clan Chattan, made a stand 
on the bank of the river, while their enemies were 
making such exertions as their wounds would per- 
mit to come up with them. Torquil had just 
reached the spot where he had resolved to make 
the stand, when the youth Tormot dropped and 
expired. His death drew from his father the 
first and only sigh which he had breathed through- 
out the eventful day. 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 177 

"My son Tormot ! ,J he said, "my youngest 
and dearest ! But if I save Hector, I save all. — 
Now, my darling Dault, I have done for thee all 
that man may, excepting the last. Let me undo 
the clasps of that ill-omened armor, and do thou 
put on that of Tormot ; it is light, and will fit 
thee well. While you do so, I will rush on these 
crippled men, and make what play with them I 
can. I trust I shall have but little to do, for they 
are following each other like disabled steers. At 
least, darling of my soul, if I am unable to save 
thee, I can show thee how a man should die." 

While Torquil thus spoke, he unloosed the clasps 
of the young chiefs hauberk, in the simple belief 
that he could thus break the meshes which fear 
and necromancy had twined about his heart. 

"My father, my father, my more than parent ! ,J 
said the unhappy Eachin — "Stay with me! — 
with you by my side, I feel I can fight to the last/' 

"It is impossible," said Torquil. "I will stop 
them coming up, while you put on the hauberk. 
God eternally bless thee, beloved of my soul ! ,s 

And then, brandishing his sword, Torquil of 
the Oak rushed forward with the same fatal war 
cry, which had so often sounded over that bloody 
field, Bas air son Eachin ! — The words rung 
three times in a voice of thunder ; and each time 
that he cried his war-shout, he struck down one 
of the Clan Chattan, as he met them successively 



178 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

straggling towards him. — "Brave battle, hawk 

— well flown, falcon!" exclaimed the multitude, 
as they witnessed exertions which seemed, even 
at this last hour, to threaten a change of the for- 
tunes of the day. Suddenly these cries were 
hushed into silence, and succeeded by a clashing 
of swords so dreadful, as if the whole conflict had 
recommenced in the person of Henry Wynd and 
Torquil of the Oak. They cut, foined, 1 hewed 
and thrust, as if they had drawn their blades for 
the first time that day ; and their inveteracy was 
mutual, for Torquil recognized the foul wizard, 
who, as he supposed, had cast a spell over his 
child ; and Henry saw before him the giant, who, 
during the whole conflict, had interrupted the pur- 
pose for which alone he had joined the combatants 

— that of engaging in single combat with Hector. 
They fought with an equality which, perhaps, 
would not have existed, had not Henry, more 
wounded than his antagonist, been somewhat 
deprived of his usual agility. 

Meanwhile Eachin, finding himself alone, after 
a disorderly and vain attempt to put on his foster 
brother's harness, became animated by an emotion 
of shame and despair, and hurried forward to sup- 
port his foster father in the terrible struggle, ere 
some other of the Clan Chattan should come up. 
When he was within five yards, and sternly de- 

1 Lunged. 



THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS 179 

termined to take his share in the death-fight, 
his foster father fell, cleft from the collar bone 
well-nigh to the heart, and murmuring with his 
last breath, Bas air son Eachin ! — The unfor- 
tunate youth saw the fall of his last friend, and 
at the same moment beheld the deadly enemy 
who had hunted him through the whole field 
standing within sword's point of him, and brand- 
ishing the huge weapon which had hewed its way 
to his life through so many obstacles. Perhaps 
this was enough to bring his constitutional timid- 
ity to its highest point ; or perhaps he recollected 
at the same moment that he was without defensive 
armor, and that a line of enemies, halting indeed 
and crippled, but eager for revenge and blood, 
were closely approaching. It is enough to say, 
that his heart sickened, his eyes darkened, his 
ears tingled, his brain turned giddy — all other 
considerations were lost in the apprehension of 
instant death ; and drawing one ineffectual blow 
at the smith, he avoided that which was aimed 
at him in return, by bounding backward ; and 
ere the former could recover his weapon, Eachin 
had plunged into the stream of the Tay. A roar 
of contumely pursued him as he swam across the 
river, although, perhaps, not a dozen of those 
who joined in it would have behaved otherwise in 
the like circumstances. 

Thus ended this celebrated conflict of the North 



180 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Inch of Perth. Of sixty-four brave men (the 

minstrels and standard bearers included) who 

strode manfully to the fatal field, seven alone 

survived, who were conveyed from thence in 

litters, in a case little different from the dead 

and dying around them, and mingled with them 

in the sad procession which conveyed them from 

the scene of their strife. Eachin alone had left 

it void of wounds, and void of honor. 

It remains but to say, that not a man of the 

Clan Quhele survived the bloody combat, except 

the fugitive chief; and the consequence of the 

defeat was the dissolution of their confederacy. 

The clans of which it consisted are now only 

matter of conjecture to the antiquar)^, for, after 

this eventful contest, they never assembled under 

the same banner. The Clan Chattan, on the 

other hand, continued to increase and flourish ; 

and the best families of the Northern Highlands 

boast their descent from the race of the Cat-a- 

Mountain. 

From "The Fair Maid of Perth." 



THE BATTLE OF HARLAW 

[The Battle of Harlaw was fought July 24, 141 1, between 
the Lowlanders led by the Earl of Mar, and the Highlanders 
under Donald of the Isles. The latter army was consider- 
ably the larger, but victory rested with the Lowlanders.] 

Now haud your tongue, baith wife and carle, 

And listen great and sma', 
And I will sing of Glenallan's Earl 

That fought on the red Harlaw. 

The cronach's cried on Bennachie, 

And down the Don and a', 
And hieland and lawland may mournfu' be 

For the sair field of Harlaw. 

They saddled a hundred milk-white steeds, 
They hae bridled a hundred black, 

With a chafron of steel on each horse's head, 
And a good knight upon his back. 

They hadna ridden a mile, a mile, 

A mile but barely ten, 
When Donald came branking 1 down the brae 

Wi' twenty thousand men. 

Their tartans they were waving wide, 
Their glaives were glancing clear, 

The pibrochs rung frae side to side, 
Would deafen ye to hear. 

1 Prancing. 
181 



182 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

The great Earl in his stirrups stood, 

That Highland host to see : 
"Now here a knight that's stout and good 

May prove a jeopardie : 

"What wouldst thou do, my squire so gay, 

That rides beside my reyne, — 
Were ye Glenallan's Earl the day, 

And I were Roland Cheyne ? 

"To turn the rein were sin and shame, 

To fight were wondrous peril, — 
What would ye do now, Roland Cheyne, 

Were ye Glenallan's Earl ?" 

"Were I Glenallan's Earl this tide, 

And ye were Roland Cheyne, 
The spur should be in my horse's side, 

And the bridle upon his mane. 

"If they hae twenty thousand blades, 

And we twice ten times ten, 
Yet they hae but their tartan plaids, 

And we are mail-clad men. 

"My horse shall ride through ranks sae rude, 
As through the moorland fern, — 

Then ne'er let the gentle Norman blude 
Grow cauld for Highland kerne." x 

From "The Antiquary." 

1 Foot soldiers. 



CORONACH 1 

He is gone on the mountain, 

He is lost to the forest, 
Like a summer-dried fountain, 

When our need was the sorest. 
The fount, reappearing, 

From the raindrop shall borrow, 
But to us comes no cheering, 

To Duncan no morrow ! 

The hand of the reaper 

Takes the ears that are hoary ; 
But the voice of the weeper 

Wails manhood in glory. 
The autumn winds rushing 

Waft the leaves that are searest ; 
But our flower was in flushing 

When blighting was nearest. 

Fleet foot on the correi, 2 

Sage counsel in cumber, 3 
Red hand in the foray, 

How sound is thy slumber ! 

1 The Coronach of the Highlanders was a wild lamentation, poured forth 
by the mourners over the body of a departed friend. 

2 Hollow in which game hides. 

3 Trouble, difficulty. 

183 



1 84 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Like the dew on the mountain, 

Like the foam on the river, 
Like the bubble on the fountain, 

Thou art gone, and forever ! 

From "The Lady of the Lake." 



BOAT SONG 

Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances ! 

Honored and blessed be the ever-green Pine ! 
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 

Heaven send it happy dew, 

Earth lend it sap anew, 
Gayly to bourgeon and broadly to grow, 

While every Highland glen 

Sends our shout back again, 
"Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 

Blooming at Beltane, 1 in winter to fade ; 
When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 
mountain, 
The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. 
Moored in the rifted rock, 
Proof to the tempest's shock, 
Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 

1 May day. 




Loch Katrine 



185 



1 86 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Menteith : and Breadalbane, 2 then, 
Echo his praise again, 
"Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin, 3 
And Bannachar's groans to our slogan replied ; 
Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, 
And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. 

Widow and Saxon maid 

Long shall lament our raid, 
Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe ; 

Lennox and Leven-glen 

Shake when they hear again, 
"Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

Row, vassals, row for the pride of the Highlands ! 

Stretch to your oars for the ever-green Pine ! 
Oh, that the rosebud that graces yon islands 4 
Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine ! 
Oh, that some seedling gem, 
Worthy such noble stem 
Honored and blessed in their shadow might grow ! 
Loud shall Clan-Alpine then 
Ring from her deepmost glen, 
"Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

From "The Lady of the Lake." 

1 The watershed of the river Teith. 

2 Breadalbane is the country around Loch Tay, north of Loch Lomond. 

3 All places mentioned in this stanza are near Loch Lomond. 

4 The reference is to Ellen Douglas, whose hand is sought in marriage by 
Roderigh, Chief of Clan Alpine. 



JOCK OF HAZELDEAN 

"Why weep ye by the tide, ladie ? 

Why weep ye by the tide ? 
I'll wed ye to my youngest son, 

And ye sail be his bride : 
And ye sail be his bride, ladie, 

Sae comely to be seen" — 
But aye she loot the tears down fa' 

For Jock of Hazeldean. 

"Now let this wilfu' grief be done, 

And dry that cheek so pale ; 
Young Frank is chief of Erington, 

And lord of Langley-dale ; 
His step is first in peaceful ha', 

His sword in battle keen" — 
But aye she loot the tears down fa' 

For Jock of Hazeldean. 

"A chain of gold ye sail not lack, 

Nor braid to bind your hair ; 
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, 

Nor palfrey fresh and fair ; 
And you, the foremost o' them a', 

Sail ride our forest queen" — 
But aye she loot the tears down fa' 

For Jock of Hazeldean. 

187 



1 88 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

The kirk was decked at morning-tide, 

The tapers glimmered fair ; 
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, 

And dame and knight are there. 
They sought her baith by bower and ha' ; 

The ladie was not seen ! 
She's o'er the Border, and awa' 

Wi' Jock of Hazeldean. 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 

[At this period of history, Charles, the Duke of Burgundy, 
was well-nigh as powerful a sovereign prince as Louis XI, 
King of France. The rivalry between them was bitter. 
Martius Galeotti, the astrologer, advised Louis to visit 
Charles, assuring him that the outcome of his undertaking 
would be favorable. The news of the murder of the bishop 
of Liege, a near relative of the duke, arrives most inoppor- 
tunely. Charles suspects, and with reason, Louis's com- 
plicity and causes his arrest. The Count of Crevecoeur 
acts as his jailer, and Louis is granted permission to choose 
six personal attendants. His selection is Oliver, his barber; 
Le Balafre, a Swiss guard; Tristan l'Hermite, the provost 
marshal; Petit-Andre and Trois-Eschelles, Tristan's hang- 
men ; and last, but by no means least, Martius Galeotti, 
the astrologer. 

Le Glorieux, Charles's jester, accompanies Louis to his 
prison.] 

I 

Forty men at arms, carrying alternately naked 
swords and blazing torches, served as the escort, 
or rather the guard, of King Louis, from the town 
hall of Peronne to the Castle ; and as he entered 
within its darksome and gloomy strength, it seemed 
as if a voice screamed in his ear that warning which 
the Florentine x has inscribed over the portal of 
the infernal regions, "Leave all hope behind \ 9i 

1 Dante. 
189 



J*> 7;/;. ****;■*; \Mii-J 



^Ahv^ (If 







King Louis XI 



190 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 191 

Meanwhile, the seneschal, hastily summoned, 
was turning with laborious effort the ponderous 
key which opened the reluctant gate of the huge 
Gothic keep, and was at last fain to call for the 
assistance of one of Crevecoeur's attendants. 
When they had succeeded, six men entered with 
torches, and showed the way through a narrow 
and winding passage, commanded at different 
points by shot holes from vaults and casements 
constructed behind, and in the thickness of the 
massive walls. At the end of this passage arose 
a stair of corresponding rudeness, consisting of 
huge blocks of stone, roughly dressed with the 
hammer, and of unequal height. Having mounted 
this ascent, a strong iron-clenched door admitted 
them to what had been the great hall of the don- 
jon, lighted but very faintly even during the day- 
time (for the apertures, diminished in appearance 
by the excessive thickness of the walls, resembled 
slits rather than windows), and now, but for the 
blaze of the torches, almost perfectly dark. Two 
or three bats, and other birds of evil presage, 
roused by the unusual glare, flew against the 
lights, and threatened to extinguish them ; while 
the seneschal formally apologized to the king, 
that the state hall had not been put in order, 
such was the hurry of the notice sent to him ; 
and adding, that, in truth, the apartment had 
not been in use for twenty years, and rarely before 






192 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

that time, so far as ever he had heard, since the 
time of King Charles the Simple. 

King Charles the Simple!" echoed Louis; 

I know the history of the Tower now. — He was 
here murdered by his treacherous vassal, Herbert, 
Earl of Vermandois. — So say our annals. — Here, 
then, my predecessor was slain ?" 

"Not here, not exactly here, and please your 
Majesty/' said the old seneschal, stepping with 
the eager haste of a cicerone, who shows the 
curiosities of such a place — "Not here, but in 
the side-chamber a little onward, which opens 
from your Majesty's bedchamber." 

He hastily opened a wicket at the upper end 
of the hall, which led into a bedchamber, small, 
as is usual in such old buildings ; but, even for 
that reason, rather more comfortable than the 
waste hall through which they had passed. Some 
hasty preparations had been here made for the 
king's accommodation. Arras had been tacked 
up, a fire lighted in the rust)^ grate, which had 
been long unused, and a pallet laid down for those 
gentlemen who were to pass the night in his cham- 
ber, as was then usual. 

"We will get beds in the hall for the rest of your 
attendants," said the garrulous old man; "but 
we have had such brief notice, if it please your 
Majesty. — And if it please your Majesty to look 
upon this little wicket behind the arras, it opens 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 193 

into the little old cabinet in the thickness of the 
wall where Charles was slain ; and there is a secret 
passage from below, which admitted the men 
who were to deal with him. And your Majesty, 
whose eyesight I hope is better than mine, may 
see the blood still on the oak floor, though the 
thing was done five hundred years ago." 

While he thus spoke, he kept fumbling to open 
the postern of which he spoke, until the king said, 
"Forbear, old man — forbear but a little while, 
when thou mayst have a newer tale to tell, and 
fresher blood to show. — My Lord of Crevecoeur, 
what say you ?" 

"I can but answer, Sire, that these two interior 
apartments are as much at your Majesty's dis- 
posal as those in your own castle at Plessis, 1 
and that Crevecoeur, a name never blackened by 
treachery or assassination, has the guard of the 
exterior defenses of it." 

"But the private passage into that closet, of 
which the old man speaks ?' 3 This King Louis 
said in a low and anxious tone, holding Creve- 
coeur's arm fast with one hand, and pointing to 
the wicket door with the other. 

"It must be some dream of Mornay's," said 
Crevecoeur, "or some old and absurd tradition 
of the place ; — but we will examine." 

1 Plessis les Tours, a castle near Tours, France, noted as the residence of 
Louis XI. 



194 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

He was about to open the closet door, when 
Louis answered, "No, Crevecoeur, no! — Your 
honor is sufficient warrant. — But what will 
your duke do with me, Crevecoeur ? He cannot 
hope to keep me long a prisoner ; and — in short, 
give me your opinion, Crevecoeur." 

"My Lord and Sire," said the count, "how the 
Duke of Burgundy must resent this horrible 
cruelty on the person of his near relative and ally 
is for your Majesty to judge ; and what right 
he may have to consider it as instigated by your 
Majesty's emissaries, you only can know. But 
my master is noble in his disposition, and made 
incapable, even by the very strength of his pas- 
sions, of any underhand practices. Whatever he 
does, will be done in the face of day, and of the 
two nations." 

"Ah ! Crevecoeur," said Louis, taking his hand 
as if affected by some painful recollections, "how 
happy is the Prince who has counselors near him, 
who can guard him against the effects of his own 
angry passions ! Noble Crevecoeur, had it been 
my lot to have such as thou art about my person !" 

"It had in that case been your Majesty's study 
to have got rid of them as fast as you could," said 
Le Glorieux. 

"Aha ! Sir Wisdom, art thou there ?' 3 said 
Louis, turning round, and instantly changing the 
pathetic tone in which he had addressed Crevecoeur, 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 195 

and adopting with facility one which had a turn of 
gayety in it — "Here, my sagacious friend, take 
this purse of gold, and with it the advice, never 
to be so great a fool as to deem yourself wiser 
than other people. Prithee, do me so much 
favor as to inquire after my astrologer, Martius 
Galeotti, and send him hither to me presently/' 

"I will, without fail, my Liege," answered the 
jester; "and I wot well I shall find him at Jan 
Dopplethur's ; for philosophers, as well as fools, 
know where the best wine is sold." 

"Let me pray for free entrance for this learned 
person through your guards, Seignior de Creve- 
coeur," said Louis. 

"For his entrance, unquestionably/' answered 
the Count; "but it grieves me to add, that my 
instructions do not authorize me to permit any 
one to quit your Majesty's apartments. — I wish 
your Majesty a good night," he subjoined, "and 
will presently make such arrangements in the 
outer hall, as may put the gentlemen who are to 
inhabit it more at their ease." 

"Give yourself no trouble for them, Sir Count," 
replied the king, "they are men accustomed to 
set hardships at defiance ; and, to speak truth, 
excepting that I wish to see Galeotti, I would 
desire as little further communication from with- 
out this night as may be consistent with your 
instructions." 



196 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

'These are, to leave your Majesty/' replied 
Crevecoeur, "undisputed possession of your own 
apartments. Such are my master's orders/' 

The Count of Crevecoeur took his leave ; and 
shortly after, they could hear the noise of the 
sentinels moving to their posts, accompanied 
with the word of command from the officers, and 
the hasty tread of the guard who were relieved. 
At length all became still, and the only sound 
which filled the air was the sluggish murmur 
of the river Somme, as it glided, deep and muddy, 
under the walls of the castle. 

"Go into the hall, my mates," said Louis to 
his train; "but do not lie down to sleep. Hold 
yourselves in readiness, for there is still something 
to be done to-night, and that of moment." 

Oliver and Tristan retired to the hall accordingly, 
in which Le Balafre and the Provost Marshal's 
two officers had remained, when the others entered 
the bedchamber. They found that those without 
had thrown fagots enough upon the fire to serve 
the purpose of light and heat at the same time, 
and, wrapping themselves in their cloaks, had 
sat down on the floor, in postures which variously 
expressed the discomposure and dejection of their 
minds. 

Meanwhile, their master underwent, in the 
retirement of his secret chamber, agonies that 
might have atoned for some of those which had 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 197 

been imposed by his command. He paced the 
room with short and unequal steps, often stood 
still and clasped his hands together, and gave 
loose, in short, to agitation, which, in public, he 
had found himself able to suppress so successfully. 
At length, pausing, and wringing his hands, he 
gradually gave voice to his feelings in a broken 
soliloquy. 

" Charles the Simple — Charles the Simple! — 
what will posterity call the Eleventh Louis, whose 
blood will probably soon refresh the stains of thine ? 
Louis the Fool — Louis the Driveler — Louis the 
Infatuated — are all terms too slight to mark 
the extremity of my idiocy ! Fool, and double 
idiot that I was ! But the villain Martius shall 
not escape. — He has been at the bottom of this. — 
I am yet king enough — have yet an empire roomy 
enough — for the punishment of the quack-salving, 
word-mongering, star-gazing, lie-coining impostor, 
who has at once made a prisoner and a dupe of me !'' 

The king thrust his head out at the door of 
the hall, and summoned Le Balafre into his apart- 
ment. "My good soldier," he said, "thou hast 
served me long, and hast had little promotion. 
We are here in a case where I may either live or 
die ; but I would not willingly die an ungrateful 
man, or leave, so far as the saints may place it 
in my power, either a friend or an enemy unrecom- 
pensed. Now, I have a friend to be rewarded, 



198 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

that is thyself — an enemy to be punished accord- 
ing to his deserts, and that is the base, treacherous 
villain, Martius Galeotti. And hear you — when 
Galeotti is admitted, and the door shut on him, 
do you stand to your weapon, and guard the en- 
trance on the inside of the apartment. Let no one 
intrude — that is all I require of you. Go hence, 
and send the provost marshal to me/' 

Balafre left the apartment accordingly, and in 
a minute afterwards Tristan l'Hermite entered 
from the hall. 

"Welcome, gossip, " said the king; "what 
thinkest thou of our situation ?" 

"As of men sentenced to death/' said the Pro- 
vost Marshal, "unless there come a reprieve from 
the duke/' 

"Reprieved or not, he that decoyed us into this 
snare shall go our fourrier 1 to the next world, to 
take up lodgings for us," said the king, with a 
grisly and ferocious smile. "Tristan, thou hast 
done many an act of brave justice. Thou must 
stand by me to the end." 

"I will, my liege," said Tristan; "I am but a 
plain fellow, but I am grateful. I will do my duty 
within these walls, or elsewhere ; and while I live, 
your Majesty's breath shall pour as potential a 
note of condemnation, and your sentence be as 
literally executed, as when you sat on your own 

1 Fore-runner. 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 199 

throne. They may deal with me the next hour 
for it if they will — I care not." 

"It is even what I expected of thee, my loving 
gossip/' said Louis; "but hast thou good assist- 
ance ? — The traitor is strong and able-bodied, 
and will doubtless be clamorous for aid. Have 
you men, think you, and means, to make sharp 
and sure work ?" 

"I have Trois-Eschelles and Petit-Andre with 
me/' said he — "men so expert in their office, 
that out of three men, they would hang up one 
ere his two companions were aware. And we 
have all resolved to live or die with your Majesty, 
knowing we shall have as short breath to draw 
when you are gone, as ever fell to the lot of any 
of our patients. — But what is to be our present 
subject, an it please your Majesty ? I love to be 
sure of my man; for, as your Majesty is pleased 
sometimes to remind me, I have now and then 
mistaken the criminal, and strung up in his place 
an honest laborer, who had given your Majesty 
no offense." 

"Most true," said the other. "Know then, 
Tristan, that the condemned person is Martius 
Galeotti. — You start, but it is even as I say. 
The villain hath trained us all hither by false and 
treacherous representations, that he might put us 
into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy without 
defense." 



200 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

'But not without vengeance!" said Tristan; 
"were it the last act of my life, I would sting him 
home like an expiring wasp, should I be crushed 
to pieces on the next instant ! Would you 
have it done in your own presence, my gracious 
liege ?" 

Louis declined this offer ; but charged the 
provost marshal to have everything ready for 
the punctual execution of his commands the 
moment the astrologer left his apartment ; "for/' 
said the king, "I will see the villain once more, 
just to observe how he bears himself towards the 
master whom he has led into the toils. I shall 
love to see the sense of approaching death strike 
the color from that ruddy cheek, and dim that 
eye which laughed as it lied. — Why do you tarry ? 
Go get your grooms ready. I expect the villain 
instantly. I pray to Heaven he take not fear 
and come not ! — that were indeed a baulk. Be- 
gone, Tristan — thou wert not wont to be so slow 
when business was to be done." 

"On the contrary, an it like your Majesty, you 
were ever wont to say that I was too fast, and 
mistook your purpose, and did the job on the 
wrong subject. Now, please your Majesty to 
give me a sign, just when you part with Galeotti 
for the night, whether the business goes on or no. 
I have known your Majesty once or twice change 
your mind, and blame me for over despatch." 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 201 

"Thou suspicious creature/' answered King 
Louis, "I tell thee I will not change my mind ; — 
but to silence thy remonstrances, observe, if I 
say to the knave at parting, 'There is a Heaven 
above us !' then let the business go on ; but if I 
say, 'Go in peace/ you will understand that my 
purpose is altered." 

"My head is somewhat of the dullest out of my 
own department/' said Tristan l'Hermite. "Stay, 
let me rehearse — If you bid him depart in peace, 
I am to have him dealt upon ?" 

"No, no — idiot, no!" said the king; "in 
that case you let him pass free. But if I say, 
'There is a Heaven above us!' up with him a yard 
or two nearer the planets he is so conversant 
with." 

The provost marshal left the apartment of 
Louis, and summoned his two assistants to council 
in an embrasure in the great hall, where Trois- 
Eschelles stuck a torch against the wall to give 
them light. With infinite dexterity, and even a 
sort of professional delight which sweetened the 
sense of their own precarious situation, the worthy 
executioners of the provost's mandates adapted 
their rope and pulley for putting in force the sen- 
tence which had been uttered against Galeotti by 
the captive Monarch — seeming to rejoice that 
that last action was to be one so consistent with 
their past life. 



202 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 



II 

Le Glorieux had no trouble in executing his 
commission, betaking himself at once to the best 
tavern in Peronne. He found, or rather observed, 
the astrologer in the corner of the public drinking 
room. 

"Cousin Philosopher/' said the jester, presenting 
himself, "I come to guide you to the apartments 
of Louis of France/' 

"How if I refuse to come, when summoned at 
so late an hour by such a messenger ?" said 
Galeotti. 

"In that case we will consult your ease, and 
carry you," said Le Glorieux. "Here are half a 
score of stout Burgundian yeomen at the door, 
with whom he of Crevecoeur has furnished me to 
that effect." 

"I attend you, sir," said Martius Galeotti, 
and accompanied Le Glorieux accordingly — see- 
ing, perhaps, that no evasion was possible. 

"Ay, sir," said the fool, as they went towards 
the Castle, "you do well ; for we treat our kinsman 
as men use an old famished lion in his cage, and 
thrust him now and then a calf to mumble, to 
keep his old jaws in exercise." 

"Do you mean," said Martius, "that the king 
intends me bodily injury ?" 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 203 

"Nay, that you can guess better than I," said 
the jester; "for, though the night be cloudy, I 
warrant you can see the stars through the mist. 
I know nothing of the matter, not I — only my 
mother always told me to go warily near an old 
rat in a trap, for he was never so much disposed to 
bite." 

The astrologer asked no more questions, and Le 
Glorieux, according to the custom of those of his 
class, continued to run on in a wild and disordered 
strain of sarcasm and folly mingled together, until 
he delivered the philosopher to the guard at the 
castle gate of Peronne, where he was passed from 
warder to warder, and at length admitted within 
Herbert's Tower. 

The hints of the jester had not been lost on 
Martius Galeotti, and he saw something which 
seemed to confirm them in the look and manner 
of Tristan, whose mode of addressing him, as he 
marshaled him to the king's bedchamber, was 
lowering, sullen, and ominous. A close observer 
of what passed on earth, as well as among the 
heavenly bodies, the pulley and the rope also 
caught the astrologer's eye ; and as the latter 
was in a state of vibration, he concluded that 
some one who had been busy adjusting it had 
been interrupted in the work by his sudden arrival. 
All this he saw, and summoned together his 
subtilty to evade the impending danger, resolved, 



204 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

should he find that impossible, to defend himself 
to the last against whomsoever should assail him. 

Thus resolved, and with a step and look cor- 
responding to the determination he had taken, 
Martius presented himself before Louis, alike 
unabashed at the miscarriage of his predictions, 
and undismayed at the monarch's anger, and its 
probable consequences. 

"Every good planet be gracious to your Maj- 
esty I" said Galeotti, with an inclination almost 
Oriental in manner — " Every evil constellation 
withhold their influences from my royal master !' J 

"Methinks," replied the king, "that when you 
look around this apartment, when you think where 
it is situated, and how guarded, your wisdom might 
consider that my propitious stars had proved 
faithless, and that each evil conjunction had al- 
ready done its worst. Art thou not ashamed, 
Martius Galeotti, to see me here, and a prisoner, 
when you recollect by what assurances I was lured 
hither?" 

"And art thou not ashamed, my royal sire ?" 
replied the philosopher; "thou, whose step in 
science was so forward, thy apprehension so quick, 
thy perseverance so unceasing, — art thou not 
ashamed to turn from the first frown of fortune, 
like a craven from the first clash of arms ? Be- 
lieve me, that kings in the plenitude of power, if 
immersed in ignorance and prejudice, are less free 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 205 

than sages in a dungeon, and loaded with material 
chains. Towards this true happiness it is mine 
to guide you — be it yours to attend to my in- 
structions/ 5 

"And it is to such philosophical freedom that 
your lessons would have guided me ?' said the 
king, very bitterly. "I might surely have at- 
tained this mental ascendency at a more moderate 
price than that of forfeiting the fairest crown in 
Christendom, and becoming tenant of a dungeon 
in Peronne ! Go, sir, and think not to escape 
condign punishment — There is a Heaven above 
us I 

"I leave you not to your fate," replied Martius, 
"until I have vindicated, even in your eyes, dark- 
ened as they are, that reputation, a brighter gem 
than the brightest in thy crown, and at which the 
world shall wonder, ages after all the race of 
Capet * are moldered into oblivion in the charnels 
of Saint Denis. " 2 

"Speak on/ 5 said Louis; "thine impudence 
cannot make me change my purposes or my opin- 
ion. — Confess that I am a dupe, thou an impostor, 
thy pretended science a dream, and the planets 
which shine above us as little influential of our 
destiny, as their shadows, when reflected in the 
river, are capable of altering its course." 

1 A surname of the kings of France. 

2 Burial place of the French kings. 



206 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"And how know'st thou/' answered the as- 
trologer, boldly, "the secret influence of yonder 
blessed lights ? Louis of Valois, answer my par- 
able in turn. — Confess, art thou not like the 
foolish passenger, who becomes wroth with his 
pilot because he cannot bring the vessel into 
harbor without experiencing occasionally the 
adverse force of winds and currents ? I could 
indeed point to thee the probable issue of thine 
enterprise as prosperous, but it was in the power 
of Heaven alone to conduct thee thither ; and if 
the path be rough and dangerous, was it in my 
power to smooth or render it more safe ? The 
End is not as yet — thine own tongue shall ere- 
long confess the benefit which thou hast received/' 

"This is too — too insolent," said the king, "at 
once to deceive and to insult. — But hence ! — 
think not my wrongs shall be unavenged. — There 
is a Heaven above us T' 

Galeotti turned to depart. "Yet stop," said 
Louis — "thou bearest thine imposture bravely 
out. — Let me hear your answer to one question, 
and think ere you speak. — Can thy pretended 
skill ascertain the hour of thine own death ?" 

"Only by referring to the fate of another," 
said Galeotti. 

"I understand not thine answer," said Louis. 

"Know then, O King," said Martius, "that 
this only I can tell with certainty concerning mine 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 207 

own death, that it shall take place exactly twenty- 
four hours before that of your Majesty. " 

"Ha ! say'st thou ?" said Louis, his countenance 
again altering. — "Hold — hold — go not — wait 
one moment. — Saidst thou, my death should 
follow thine so closely ?" 

"Within the space of twenty-four hours," re- 
peated Galeotti, firmly, "if there be one sparkle of 
true divination in those bright and mysterious 
intelligences, which speak, each on their courses, 
though without a tongue. — I wish your Majesty 
good rest." 

"Hold — hold — go not," said the King, taking 
him by the arm, and leading him from the door. 
"Martius Galeotti, I have been a kind master 
to thee — enriched thee — made thee my friend 

— my companion — the instructor of my studies. 

— Be open with me, I entreat you. — Is the 
measure of our lives so very — very nearly 
matched ? Confess, my good Martius, you speak 
after the trick of your trade. — Confess, I pray 
you, and you shall have no displeasure at my hand. 

— Tell me in sincerity. — Have you fooled me ? 

— Or is your science true, and do you truly report 
it?" 

"Your Majesty will forgive me if I reply to 
you," said Martius Galeotti, "that time only — 
time and the event, will convince incredulity. 
A day, or two days' patience, will prove or dis- 



208 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

prove what I have averred ; and I will be contented 
to die on the wheel, and have my limbs broken 
joint by joint, if your Majesty have not advantage. 
But if I were to die under such tortures, it would 
be well your Majesty should seek a ghostly father ; 
for, from the moment my last groan is drawn, 
only twenty-four hours will remain to you for 
confession and penitence. " 

Louis continued to keep hpld of Galeotti's robe 
as he led him towards the door, and pronounced 
as he opened it, in a loud voice, " To-morrow 
we'll talk more of this. Go in peace, my learned 
father — Go in peace — Go in peace!" 

He repeated these words three times ; and, still 
afraid that the provost marshal might mistake 
his purpose, he led the astrologer into the hall, 
holding fast his robe, as if afraid that he should 
be torn from him, and put to death before his eyes. 
He did not unloose his grasp until he had not 
only repeated again and again the gracious phrase, 
"Go in peace," but even made a private signal 
to the provost marshal, to enjoin a suspension 
of all proceedings against the person of the as- 
trologer. 

Thus did the possession of some secret infor- 
mation, joined to audacious courage and readiness 
of wit, save Galeotti from the most imminent 
danger ; and thus was Louis, the most sagacious 
as well as the most vindictive, amongst the mon- 



WHY KING LOUIS CHANGED HIS MIND 209 

archs of the period, cheated of his revenge by the 
influence of superstition upon a selfish temper, 
and a mind to which, from the consciousness of 
many crimes, the fear of death was peculiarly 

terrible. 

From "Quentin Durward." 



COUNTY GUY 

Ah ! County * Guy, the hour is nigh, 

The sun has left the lea, 
The orange flower perfumes the bower, 

The breeze is on the sea. 
The lark, his lay who trilled all day, 

Sits hushed his partner nigh ; 
Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour, 

But where is County Guy ? 

The village maid steals through the shade 

Her shepherd's suit to hear ; 
To beauty shy, by lattice high, 

Sings high-born Cavalier ; 
The star of Love, all stars above, 

Now reigns o'er earth and sky, 
And high and low the influence know, — 

But where is County Guy ? 

From "Quentin Durward. 

THE SUN UPON THE LAKE 

The sun upon the lake is low, 
The wild birds hush their song, 

The hills have evening's deepest glow, 
Yet Leonard tarries long. 

1 Count. 
210 



THE SUN UPON THE LAKE 211 

Now all whom varied toil and care 

From home and love divide, 
In the calm sunset may repair 

Each to the loved one's side. 

The noble dame, on turret high 

Who waits her gallant knight, 
Looks to the western beam to spy 

The flash of armor bright. 
The village maid, with hand on brow 

The level ray to shade, 
Upon the footpath watches now 

For Colin's darkening plaid. 

Now to their mates the wild swans row, 

By day they swam apart ; 
And to the thicket wanders slow 

The hind beside the hart. 
The woodlark at his partner's side 

Twitters his closing song — 
All meet whom day and care divide, 

But Leonard tarries long. 

From "The Doom of Devorgoil." 



THE BATTLE OF NEUFCHATEL 

[The Swiss Confederates had trade grievances against 
Charles the Bold of Burgundy. An embassy led by Arnold 
Biederman traveled to Charles's court to seek a favorable 
adjustment of the difficulties. Charles heard their plea but 
dismissed them rudely. War was the result ; the battle of 
Neufchatel was fought between the Swiss and the Burgun- 
dians; Sigismund, a son of Arnold Biederman, tells the story 
of the day, to his friend Arthur, the son of an English noble- 
man.] 

It was at no time easy for Sigismund to arrange 
his ideas, and now they were altogether confused, 
by the triumphant joy which he expressed for the 
recent victory of his countrymen over the Duke of 
Burgundy ; and it was with wonder that Arthur 
heard his confused and rude, but faithful tale. 

"Look you, King Arthur, the Duke had come 
up with his huge army as far as Granson, which 
is near the outlet of the great lake of Neufchatel. 
There were five or six hundred confederates in 
the place, and they held it till provisions failed, 
and then you know they were forced to give it 
over. But though hunger is hard to bear, they 
had better have borne it a day or two longer, for 
the butcher Charles hung them all up by the neck, 
upon trees round the place, — and there was no 

212 



1HE BATTLE OF NEUFCHATEL 213 

swallowing for them, you know, after such usage 
as that. Meanwhile all was busy on our hills, 
and every man that had a sword or lance accoutered 
himself with it. We met at Neufchatel, and some 
Germans joined us with the noble Duke of Lor- 
raine. Ah, King Arthur, there is a leader ! — we 
all think him second but to Rudolph of Donner- 
hugel — you saw him even now — it was he 
that went into that room — and you saw him 
before, — it is he that was the Blue Knight of 
Bale ; but we called him Lawrenz then, for Ru- 
dolph said, his presence among us must not be 
known to our father, and I did not know myself 
at that time who he really was. Well, when he 
came to Neufchatel, we were a goodly company ; 
we were fifteen thousand stout confederates, and 
of others, Germans and Lorraine men, I will war- 
rant you five thousand more. We heard that the 
Burgundian was sixty thousand in the field ; but 
we heard, at the same time, that Charles had hung 
up our brethren like dogs, and the man was not 
among us — among the confederates I mean — 
who would stay to count heads, when the question 
was to avenge them. I would you could have 
heard the roar of fifteen thousand Swiss demand- 
ing to be led against the butcher of their brethren ! 
My father himself, who, you know, is usually so 
eager for peace, now gave the first voice for battle ; 
so, in the gray of the morning, we descended the 



214 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

lake towards Granson, with tears in our eyes and 
weapons in our hands, determined to have death 
or vengeance. We came to a sort of strait, between 
Vauxmoreux and the lake ; there were horse on 
the level ground between the mountain and the 
lake, and a large body of infantry on the side of 
the hill. The Duke of Lorraine and his followers 
engaged the horse, while we climbed the hill to 
dispossess the infantry. It was with us the affair 
of a moment. Every man of us was at home 
among the crags, and Charles's men were stuck 
among them as thou wert, Arthur, when thou 
didst first come to Geierstein. But there were no 
kind maidens to lend them their hands to help 
them down. No, no — there were pikes, clubs, 
and halberds, many a one, to dash and thrust 
them from places where they could hardly keep 
their feet had there been no one to disturb them. 
So the horsemen, pushed by the Lorrainers, and 
seeing us upon their flanks, fled as fast as their 
horses could carry them. Then we drew together 
again on a fair field, which is buon campagna, as 
the Italian says, where the hills retire from the 
lake. But lo you, we had scarce arrayed our ranks, 
when we heard such a din and clash of instruments, 
such a trample of their great horses, such a shout- 
ing and crying of men, as if all the soldiers, and all 
the minstrels in France and Germany, were striving 
which should make the loudest noise. Then there 



THE BATTLE OF NEUFCHATEL 215 

was a huge cloud of dust approaching us, and we 
began to see we must do or die, for this was Charles 
and his whole army come to support his vanguard. 
A blast from the mountain dispersed the dust, for 
they had halted to prepare for battle. O, good 
Arthur ! you would have given ten years of life 
but to have seen the sight. There were thousands 
of horse all in complete array, glancing against 
the sun, and hundreds of knights with crowns of 
gold and silver on their helmets, and thick masses 
of spears on foot, and cannon, as they call them. 
I did not know what things they were, which they 
drew on heavily with bullocks and placed before 
their army, but I knew more of them before the 
morning was over. Well, we were ordered to 
draw up in a hollow square, as we are taught at 
exercise, and before we pushed forwards, we were 
commanded, as is the godly rule and guise of our 
warfare, to kneel down and pray to God, Our 
Lady, and the blessed saints ; and we afterwards 
learned that Charles, in his arrogance, thought we 
asked for mercy — Ha ! ha ! ha ! a proper jest. 
If my father once knelt to him, it was for the sake 
of Christian blood and godly peace ; but on the 
field of battle, Arnold Biederman would not have 
knelt to him and his whole chivalry, though he had 
stood alone with his sons on that field. Well, but 
Charles, supposing we asked grace, was determined 
to show us that we had asked it at a graceless face, 



21 6 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

for he cried, ' Fire my cannon on the coward slaves ; 
it is all the mercy they have to expect from me V — 
Bang — bang — bang — off went the things I told 
you of, like thunder and lightning, and some mis- 
chief they did, but the less that we were kneeling ; 
and the saints doubtless gave the huge balls a 
hoist over the heads of those who were asking 
grace from them, but from no mortal creatures. 
So we had the signal to rise and rush on, and I 
promise you there were no sluggards. Every 
man felt ten men's strength. My halberd is no 
child's toy — if you have forgotten it, there it is — 
and yet it trembled in my grasp as if it had been 
a willow wand to drive cows with. On we went, 
when suddenly the cannon were silent, and the 
earth shook with another and continued growl and 
battering, like thunder underground. It was the 
men at arms rushing to charge us. But our leaders 
knew their trade, and had seen such a sight before. 
— It was, Halt, halt — kneel down in the front — 
stoop in the second rank — close shoulder to 
shoulder like brethren, lean all spears forward 
and receive them like an iron wall ! On they 
rushed, and there was a rending of lances that 
would have served the Unterwalden x old women 
with splinters of firewood for a twelvemonth. 
Down went armed horse — down went accoutered 
knight — down went banner and bannerman — 

1 One of the forest cantons of Switzerland. 



THE BATTLE OF NEUFCHATEL 217 

down went peaked boot and crowned helmet, and 
of those who fell not a man escaped with life. So 
they drew off in confusion, and were getting in 
order to charge again, when the noble Duke Fer- 
rand x and his horsemen dashed at them in their 
own way, and we moved onward to support him. 
Thus on we pressed, and the foot hardly waited 
for us, seeing their cavalry so handled. Then if 
you had seen the dust and heard the blows ! the 
noise of a hundred thousand thrashers, the flight 
of the chaff which they drive about, would be but 
a type of it. On my word, I almost thought it 
shame to dash about my halberd, the rout was so 
helplessly piteous. Hundreds were slain unresist- 
ing, and the whole army was in complete flight. 
They never rallied, and fell into greater confusion 
at every step — and we might have slaughtered 
one half of them, had we not stopt to examine 
Charles's camp. Mercy on us, Arthur, what a 
sight was there ! Every pavilion was full of rich 
clothes, splendid armor, and great dishes and 
flagons, which some men said were of silver ; but 
I knew there was not so much silver in the world, 
and was sure they must be of pewter, rarely 
burnished. Well, Arthur, there was fine 
plundering, for the Germans and French that 
were with us rifled everything, and some of our 
men followed the example — it is very catching. — 

1 Ferrand de Vaudemont, Duke of Lorraine. 



21 8 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

So I got into Charles's own pavilion, where Rudolph 
and some of his people were trying to keep out 
every one, that he might have the spoiling of it 
himself, I think ; but neither he, nor any Ber- 
nese x of them all, dared lay truncheon over my 
pate ; so I entered, and saw them putting piles of 
pewter trenchers, so clean as to look like silver, 
into chests and trunks. I pressed through them 
into the inner place, and there was Charles's 
pallet-bed — I will do him justice, it was the 
only hard one in his camp — and there were fine 
sparkling stones and pebbles lying about among 
gauntlets, boots, vambraces, 2 and suchlike gear — 
So I thought of your father and you, and looked 
for something, when what should I see but my old 
friend here," (here he drew Queen Margaret's 3 
necklace from his bosom,) "which I knew, because 
you remember I recovered it from the Scharf- 
gerichter 4 at Brisach. — 'Oho ! you pretty spark- 
lers,' said I, 'you shall be Burgundian no longer, 
but go back to my honest English friends,' and 
therefore — " 

"It is of immense value," said Arthur, "and 
belongs not to my father or to me, but to the 
Queen you saw but now." 

"And she will become it rarely," answered Sigis- 



1 A native of the canton of Bern. 

2 The pieces of armor protecting the fore arm. 

3 Queen Margaret of England, widow of Henry VI. 4 Executioner. 



THE BATTLE OF NEUFCHATEL 219 

mund. "Were she but a score, or a score and a 
half years younger, she were a gallant wife for a 
Swiss landholder. I would warrant her to keep 
his household in high order. " 

"She will reward thee liberally for recovering 
her property/' said Arthur, scarce repressing a 
smile at the idea of the proud Margaret becoming 
the housewife of a Swiss shepherd. 

"How — reward!' 3 said the Swiss. "Bethink 
thee I am Sigismund Biederman, the son of the 
Landamman of Unterwalden — I am not a base 
lanz-knecht, 1 to be paid for courtesy with piasters. 
Let her grant me a kind word of thanks, or the 
matter of a kiss, and I am well contented. " 

"A kiss of her hand, perhaps/' said Arthur, 
again smiling at his friend's simplicity. 

"Umph, the hand ! Well ! it may do for a 
Queen of some fifty years and odd, but would be 
poor homage to a Queen of May." 

Arthur here brought back the youth to the sub- 
ject of his battle, and learned that the slaughter 
of the Duke's forces in the flight had been in no 
degree equal to the importance of the action. 

"Many rode off on horseback," said Sigismund ; 
"and our German reiters 2 flew on the spoil, when 
they should have followed the chase. And, be- 
sides, to speak truth, Charles's camp delayed our 
very selves in the pursuit ; but had we gone half 

1 Foot soldier. 2 Troopers. 



220 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

a mile further, and seen our friends hanging on 
trees, not a confederate would have stopped from 
the chase while he had limbs to carry him in 
pursuit." 

"And what has become of the Duke ?' 3 
"Charles has retreated into Burgundy, like a 
boar who has felt the touch of the spear, and is 
more enraged than hurt ; but is, they say, sad and 
sulky. Others report that he has collected all his 
scattered army, and immense forces besides, and 
has screwed his subjects to give him money, so 
that we may expect another brush. But all 
Switzerland will join us after such a victory." 

From "Anne of Geierstein." 



SOLDIER, REST! 

Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; 
Dream of battled fields no more, 

Days of danger, nights of waking. 
In our isle's enchanted hall, 

Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, 
Fairy strains of music fall, 

Every sense in slumber dewing. 
Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 
Dream of fighting fields no more ; 
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, 
Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 

No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 

Armor's clang or war-steed champing, 
Trump nor pibroch summon here 

Mustering clan or squadron tramping. 
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 

At the daybreak from the fallow, 
And the bittern sound his drum, 

Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
Ruder sounds shall none be near, 
Guards nor warders challenge here, 
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, 
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping. 



221 



222 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 

While our slumbrous spells assail ye, 
Dream not, with the rising sun, 

Bugles here shall sound reveille. 
Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 

Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying : 
Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 
Think not of the rising sun, 
For at dawning to assail ye 
Here no bugles sound reveille. 

From " The Lady of the Lake." 



LOCHINVAR 

Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
Through all the wide Border his steed was the 

best ; 
And save his good broadsword, he weapons had 

none, 
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for 

stone, 
He swam the Esk 1 River where ford there was none, 

1 A river near the Scottish border. 



224 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

But ere he alighted at Netherby 1 gate, 
The bride had consented, the gallant came late ; 
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, 

Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers and 

all: 
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his 

sword, 
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a 

word), 
"Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ?'' 

"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you 

denied ; — 
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide — 
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, 
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochin- 

var. 

The bride kissed the goblet : the knight took it up, 
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the 
cup. 

1 Netherby Castle, Cumberland, England, on the eastern bank of the 
Esk. 



LOCHINVAR 225 

She looked down to blush, and she looked up to 

sigh, 
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. 
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar, — 
"Now tread we a measure !" said young Lochinvar. 

So stately -his form, and so lovely her face, 
That never a hall such a galliard x did grace ; 
While her mother did fret, and her father did 

fume, 
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet 

and plume, 
And the bridemaidens whispered, " 'Twere better 

by far, 
To have matched our fair cousin with young 

Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand, and one word in her 

ear, 
When they reached the hall door, and the charger 

stood near ; 
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 
"She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and 

scaur ; 2 
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young 

Lochinvar. 

1 A lively dance. 2 A steep, precipitous place. 



226 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Neth- 

erby clan ; 
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode 

and they ran : 
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, 1 
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they 

see. 

So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, 

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochin- 

var ? 

From " Marmion." 



BRIGNALL BANKS 

Oh ! Brignall banks are wild and fair, 

And Greta woods are green, 
And you may gather garlands there 

Would grace a summer queen. 
And as I rode by Dalton hall, 

Beneath the turrets high, 
A maiden on the castle wall 

Was singing merrily, — 

" Oh ! Brignall banks are fresh and fair, 
And Greta woods are green ; 

I'd rather rove with Edmund there 
Than reign our English queen." 

1 Meadows near Netherby Castle. 



BRIGNALL BANKS 227 

" If, maiden, thou wouldst wend with me, 

To leave both tower and town, 
Thou first must guess what life lead we 

That dwell by dale and down ? 
And if thou canst that riddle read, 

As read full well you may, 
Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed, 

As blithe as Queen of May." 

Yet sung she, " Brignall banks are fair, 

And Greta woods are green ; 
I'd rather rove with Edmund there 

Than reign our English queen. 

" I read you, by your bugle horn, 

And by your palfrey good, 
I read you for a ranger sworn 

To keep the king's greenwood. " 
"A ranger, lady, winds his horn, 

And 'tis at peep of light ; 
His blast is heard at merry morn, 

And mine at dead of night." 

Yet sung she, " Brignall banks are fair, 

And Greta woods are gay ; 
I would I were with Edmund there, 

To reign his Queen of May ! 

"With burnished brand and musketon 
So gallantly you come, 



228 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

I read you for a bold dragoon, 

That lists the tuck of drum." 
"I list no more the tuck of drum, 

No more the trumpet hear ; 
But when the beetle sounds his hum, 

My comrades take the spear. 

"And, oh, though Brignall banks be fair, 

And Greta woods be gay, 
Yet mickle must the maiden dare 

Would reign my Queen of May ! 

"Maiden ! a nameless life I lead, 

A nameless death I'll die ; 
The fiend whose lantern lights the mead 

Were better mate than I ! 
And when I'm with my comrades met 

Beneath the greenwood bough, 
What once we were we all forget, 

Nor think what we are now. 

"Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, 

And Greta woods are green, 
And you may gather garlands there 

Would grace a summer queen." 

From "Rokeby." 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 

[Queen Mary with two faithful attendants, Lady Mary 
Fleming and Catherine Seyton, is a prisoner in Lochleven 
Castle. Her jailor is Lady Douglas, the mother of the Earl 
of Murray, regent of Scotland. Murray sends Roland 
Graeme to serve Mary as her page. 

The queers escape is plotted by stanch friends, among 
whom are the abbot of St. Mary's monastery, formerly 
Edward Glendinning ; George Douglas, a grandson of Lady 
Douglas of Lochleven ; and Henry Seyton, brother of Cath- 
erine. 

For love of Catherine, Roland joins the conspirators and 
forges the false set of keys.] 

The enterprise of Roland Graeme appeared to 
prosper. A trinket or two, of which the work did 
not surpass the substance (for the materials were 
silver, supplied by the queen), were judiciously 
presented to those most likely to be inquisitive 
into the labors of the forge and anvil, which they 
thus were induced to reckon profitable to others, 
and harmless in itself. Openly, the page was seen 
working about such trifles. In private he forged 
a number of keys resembling so nearly in weight 
and in form those which were presented every 
evening to the Lady Lochleven, that, on a slight 
inspection, it would have been difficult to perceive 

229 



230 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

the difference. He brought them to the dark 
rusty color by the use of salt and water ; and, in 
the triumph of his art, presented them at length 
to Queen Mary in her presence chamber, about 
an hour before the tolling of the curfew. She 
looked at them with pleasure, but at the same 
time with doubt. — "I allow/' she said, "that the 
Lady Lochleven's eyes, which are not of the clear- 
est, may be well deceived, could we pass those 
keys on her in place of the real implements of her 
tyranny. But how is this to be done, and which 
of my little court dare attempt this tour de jon- 
gleur l with any chance of success ? Could we but 
engage her in some earnest matter of argument 
— but those which I hold with her always have 
been of a kind which made her grasp her keys the 
faster, as if she said to herself, ' Here I hold what 
sets me above your taunts and reproaches.' — And 
even for her liberty, Mary Stewart could not stoop 
to speak the proud heretic fair. — What shall we 
do ? Shall Lady Fleming try her eloquence in 
describing the last new headtire from Paris ? — 
Alas ! the good dame has not changed the fashion 
of her headgear since Pinkie field, 2 for aught that 
I know. Shall my mignonne Catherine sing to her 
one of those touching airs, which draw the very 
souls out of me and Roland Graeme ? — Alas ! 

1 Legerdemain ; juggler's trick. 

2 A battle field where the English defeated the Scotch in 1547. 




Queen Mary at Lochleven 
231 



232 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Dame Margaret Douglas would rather hear a 
Huguenot psalm of Clement Marrot, sung to the 
tune of Reveillez vous, belle endormie. — Cousins 
and liege counselors, what is to be done, for our 
wits are really astray in this matter ? — Must our 
man-at-arms, and the champion of our body, 
Roland Graeme, manfully assault the old lady, 
and take the keys from her par vote du fait? 19 

"Nay ! with your Grace's permission," said 
Roland, "I do not doubt being able to manage 
the matter with more discretion. I am well-nigh 
satisfied that I could pass the exchange of these 
keys on the Lady Lochleven ; but I dread the 
sentinel who is now planted nightly in the garden, 
which, by necessity, we must traverse." 

"Our last advices from our friend on the shore 
have promised us assistance in that matter," 
replied the queen. 

"And is your Grace well assured of the fidelity 
and watchfulness of those without ?" 

" For their fidelity, I will answer with my life ; 
and for their vigilance, I will answer with my life. 
I will give thee instant proof, my faithful Roland, 
that they are ingenious and trusty as thyself. 
Come hither — Nay, Catherine, attend us. Make 
fast the door of the parlor, Fleming, and warn us 
if you hear the least step — or stay, go thou to the 
door, Catherine " ; (in a whisper) " thy ears and thy 



tt 

it 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 233 

wits are both sharper. — Good Fleming, attend 
us thyself." 

Thus speaking, they were lighted by the Lady 
Fleming into the queen's bedroom, a small apart- 
ment enlightened by a projecting window. 

Look from that window, Roland/' she said ; 

see you amongst the several lights which begin 
to kindle, and to glimmer palely through the gray 
of the evening from the village of Kinross — seest 
thou, I say, one solitary spark apart from the 
others, and nearer it seems to the verge of the 
water ? — It is no brighter at this distance than 
the torch of the poor glow-worm ; and yet, my good 
youth, that light is more dear to Mary Stewart, 
than every star that twinkles in the blue vault of 
heaven. By that signal, I know that more than 
one true heart is plotting my deliverance ; and 
without that consciousness, and the hope of free- 
dom it gives me, I had long since stooped to my 
fate, and died of a broken heart. Plan after plan 
has been formed and abandoned, but still the light 
glimmers ; and while it glimmers, my hope lives. 
— Oh ! how many evenings have I sat musing in 
despair over our ruined schemes, and scarce hoping 
that I should again see that blessed signal ; when 
it has suddenly kindled, and, like the lights of 
Saint Elmo in a tempest, brought hope and con- 
solation, where there was only dejection and 
despair !" 



234 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"If I mistake not/' answered Roland, "the 
candle shines from the house of Blinkhoolie, the 
mail gardener. " * 

"Thou hast a good eye/' said the queen; "it 
is there where my trusty lieges — God and the 
saints pour blessings on them ! — hold consulta- 
tion for my deliverance. The voice of a wretched 
captive would die on these blue waters, long ere 
it could mingle in their councils ; and yet I can 
hold communication, — I will confide the whole to 
thee, — I am about to ask those faithful friends if 
the moment for the great attempt is nigh. — Place 
the lamp in the window, Fleming. " 

She obeyed, and immediately withdrew it. No 
sooner had she done so, than the light in the cot- 
tage of the gardener disappeared. 

"Now, count/' said Queen Mary, "for my heart 
beats so thick that I cannot count myself." 

The Lady Fleming began deliberately to count 
one, two, three, and when she had arrived at ten, 
the light on the shore again showed its pale twinkle. 

"Now, Our Lady be praised !' 3 said the queen ; 
"it was but two nights since, that the absence of 
the light remained, while I could tell thirty. The 
hour of deliverance approaches. May God bless 
those who labor in it with such truth to me ! — 
alas ! with such hazard to themselves — and bless 
you too, my children ! — Come, we must to the 

1 One who raises garden produce for sale. 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 235 

audience chamber again. Our absence might ex- 
cite suspicion, should they serve supper." 

They returned to the presence chamber, and 
the evening concluded as usual. 

The next noon, at dinner time, an unusual 
incident occurred. While Lady Douglas of Loch- 
leven performed her daily duty of assistant and 
taster * at the queen's table, she was told a man at 
arms had arrived recommended by her son, but 
without any letter or other token than what he 
brought by word of mouth. 

"Hath he given you that token ?" demanded 
the lady. 

"He reserved it, as I think, for your Ladyship's 
ear," replied Randal. 

" He doth well," said the lady ; " tell him to wait 
in the hall. — But no — with your permission, 
madam" (to the queen) "let him attend me 
here." 

"Since you are pleased to receive your domes- 
tics in my presence," said the queen, "I cannot 
choose" — 

" My infirmities must plead my excuse, madam, ' 
replied the lady; "the life I must lead here ill 
suits with the years which have passed over my 
head, and compels me to wave ceremonial." 

1 It used to be a regular formality at royal tables for an officer, appointed 
for the purpose, to taste of the food and wines in order to certify to their 
good quality. 



236 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"O my good Lady/' replied the queen, "I 
would there were nought in this your castle more 
strongly compulsive than the cobweb chains of 
ceremony ; but bolts and bars are harder matters 
to contend with/' 

As she spoke, the person announced by Randal 
entered the room, and Roland Graeme at once 
recognized in him the abbot, Ambrosius. 

"What is your name, good fellow ?" said the 
lady. 

"Edward Glendinning," answered the abbot, 
with a suitable reverence. 

"Art thou of the blood of the Knight of Ave- 
nel ?" said the Lady of Lochleven. 

"Ay, madam, and that nearly/' replied the 
pretended soldier. 

"It is likely enough," said the lady, "for the 
knight is the son of his own good works, and has 
risen from obscure lineage to his present high rank 
in the Estate. — But he is of sure truth and ap- 
proved worth, and his kinsman is welcome to us. 
You hold, unquestionably, the true faith ?" 

"Do not doubt of it, madam," said the dis- 
guised churchman. 

"Hast thou a token to me from Sir William 
Douglas ?" said the lady. 

"I have, madam/' replied he, "but it must be 
said in private." 

"Thou art right," said the lady, moving to- 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 237 

wards the recess of a window; "say in what does 
it consist ?" 

"In the words of an old bard/' replied the abbot. 

"Repeat them/' answered the lady; and he 
uttered, in a low tone, the lines from an old poem, 
called The Howlet, — 

"O Douglas ! Douglas ! 
Tender and true." 

"Trusty Sir John Holland !" said the Lady 
Douglas, apostrophizing the poet ; "a kinder heart 
never inspired a rhyme, and the Douglas's honor 
was ever on thy harp string ! We receive you 
among our followers, Glendinning. — But, Randal, 
see that he keep the outer ward only, till we shall 
hear more touching him from our son. — Thou 
fearest not the night air, Glendinning ?'" 

"In the cause of the lady before whom I stand, 
I fear nothing, madam," answered the disguised 
abbot. 

"Our garrison, then, is stronger by one trust- 
worthy soldier," said the matron. — "Go to the 
buttery, and let them make much of thee." 

When the Lady of Lochleven had retired, the 
queen said to Roland Graeme, who was now 7 al- 
most constantly in her company, "I spy comfort 
in that stranger's countenance ; I know not why 
it should be so, but I am well persuaded he is a 
friend." 



238 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Your Grace's penetration does not deceive 
you/' answered the page ; and he informed her 
that the Abbot of Saint Mary's himself played 
the part of the newly arrived soldier. 

The queen crossed herself and looked upward. 
"Unworthy sinner that I am/' she said, "that for 
my sake a man so holy, and so high in spiritual 
office, should wear the garb of a base sworder, 1 and 
run the risk of dying the death of a traitor ! w 

"Heaven will protect its own servant, madam," 
said Catherine Seyton ; "his aid would bring a 
blessing on our undertaking, were it not already 
blest for its own sake." 

"What I admire in my spiritual father," said 
Roland, "was the steady front with which he 
looked on me, without giving the least sign of 
former acquaintance." 

"But marked you not how astuciously the good 
father," said the queen, "eluded the questions of 
the woman Lochleven, telling her the very truth, 
which yet she received not as such ?" 

Roland thought in his heart, that when the truth 
was spoken for the purpose of deceiving, it was 
little better than a lie in disguise. But it was no 
time to agitate such questions of conscience. 

"And now for the signal from the shore !" ex- 
claimed Catherine; "my bosom tells me we shall 
see this night two lights instead of one gleam from 

1 Swordsman, soldier. 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEX 239 

that garden of Eden. — And then, Roland, do you 
play your part manfully, and we will dance on the 
greensward like midnight fairies !" 

Catherine's conjecture misgave not, nor de- 
ceived her. In the evening two beams twinkled 
from the cottage, instead of one ; and the page 
heard, with beating heart, that the new retainer 
was ordered to stand sentinel on the outside of 
the castle. When he intimated this news to the 
queen, she held her hand out to him — he knelt, 
and when he raised it to his lips in all dutiful hom- 
age, he found it was damp and cold as marble. 
'For God's sake, madam, droop not now — sink 
not now !" 

"Call upon Our Lady, my Liege," said the Lady 
Fleming — "call upon your tutelar saint." 

"Call the spirits of the hundred kings you are 
descended from!' 5 exclaimed the page; "in this 
hour of need, the resolution of a monarch were 
worth the aid of a hundred saints." 

"O Roland Graeme ! ' said Mary, in a tone of 
deep despondency, "be true to me — many have 
been false to me. Alas ! I have not always been 
true to myself ! My mind misgives me that I 
shall die in bondage, and that this bold attempt 
will cost our lives. It was foretold me by a sooth- 
sayer in France, that I should die in prison, and 
by a violent death, and here comes the hour — 
Oh, would to God it found me prepared !" 



240 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Madam/' said Catherine Seyton, "remember 
you are a queen. Better we all died in bravely 
attempting to gain our freedom than remained 
here to be poisoned, as men rid them of the noxious 
vermin that haunt old houses." 

"You are right, Catherine/' said the queen; 
"and Mary will bear her like herself. But, alas ! 
your young and buoyant spirit can ill spell the 
causes which have broken mine. Forgive me, my 
children, and farewell for a while — I will prepare 
both mind and body for this awful venture." 

They separated, till again called together by the 
tolling of the curfew. The queen appeared grave, 
but firm and resolved ; the Lady Fleming, with 
the art of an experienced courtier, knew perfectly 
how to disguise her inward tremors ; Catherine's 
eye was fired, as if with the boldness of the project, 
and the half smile which dwelt upon her beautiful 
mouth seemed to contemn all the risk and all the 
consequences of discovery ; Roland, who felt how 
much success depended on his own address and 
boldness, summoned together his whole presence 
of mind, and if he found his spirits flag for a mo- 
ment, cast his eye upon Catherine, whom he 
thought he had never seen look so beautiful. — "I 
may be foiled," he thought, "but with this reward 
in prospect, they must bring the devil to aid them 
ere they cross me." Thus resolved, he stood like 
a grayhound in the slips, with hand, heart, and 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 241 

eye intent upon making and seizing opportunity 
for the execution of their project. 

The keys had, with the wonted ceremonial, 
been presented to the Lady Lochleven. She stood 
with her back to the casement, which, like that of 
the queen's apartment, commanded a view of 
Kinross, with the church which stands at some 
distance from the town, and nearer to the lake, 
then connected with the town by straggling cot- 
tages. With her back to the casement, then, and 
her face to the table, on which the keys lay for an 
instant while she tasted the various dishes which 
were placed there, stood the Lady of Lochleven, 
more provokingly intent than usual — so at least 
it seemed to her prisoners — upon the huge and 
heavy bunch of iron, the implements of their 
restraint. Just when, having finished her cere- 
mony as taster of the queen's table, she was about 
to take up the keys, the page, who stood beside 
her, and had handed her the dishes in succession, 
looked sidewise to the churchyard, and exclaimed 
he saw corpse candles * in the vault. The Lady 
of Lochleven was not without a touch, though a 
slight one, of the superstitions of the time ; the 
fate of her sons made her alive to omens, and a 
corpse light, as it was called, in the family burial 
place, boded death. She turned her head towards 
the casement — saw a distant glimmering — for- 

1 Will-o'-the-Wisps, at this period thought to be a sign of death. 



242 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

got her charge for one second, and in that second 
were lost the whole fruits of her former vigilance. 
The page held the forged keys under his cloak, 
and with great dexterity exchanged them for the 
real ones. His utmost address could not prevent a 
slight clash as he took up the latter bunch. "Who 
touches the keys ?" said the lady; and while the 
page answered that the sleeve of his cloak had 
stirred them, she looked round, possessed herself 
of the bunch which now occupied the place of the 
genuine keys, and again turned to gaze at the 
supposed corpse candles. 

"I hold these gleams," she said, after a moment's 
consideration, "to come, not from the churchyard, 
but from the hut of the old gardener Blinkhoolie. 
I wonder what thrift that churl drives, that of 
late he hath ever had light in his house till the 
night grew deep. I thought him an industrious, 
peaceful man. — If he turns resetter 1 of idle com- 
panions and nightwalkers, the place must be rid 
of him." 

"He may work his baskets perchance," said the 
page, desirous to stop the train of her suspicion. 

"Or nets, may he not ?" answered the lady. 

"Ay, madam," said Roland, "for trout and 
salmon." 

Or for fools and knaves," replied the lady, 
but this shall be looked after to-morrow. — I 

1 Receiverer, harborer. 






QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 243 

wish your Grace and your company a good eve- 
ning. — Randal, attend us." And Randal, who 
waited in the antechamber after having surrendered 
his bunch of keys, gave his escort to his mistress 
as usual, while, leaving the queen's apartments, 
she retired to her own. 

"To-morrow ? ,J said the page, rubbing his hands 
with glee as he repeated the lady's last word, 
"fools look to to-morrow, and wise folk use to- 
night. — May I pray you, my gracious Liege, to 
retire for one half hour, until all the castle is com- 
posed to rest ? I must go and rub with oil these 
blessed implements of our freedom. Courage and 
constancy, and all will go well, provided our friends 
on the shore fail not to send the boat you spoke of." 

"Fear them not," said Catherine, "they are 
true as steel — if our dear mistress do but maintain 
her noble and royal courage." 

" Doubt not me, Catherine," replied the queen ; 
"a while since I was overborne, but I have recalled 
the spirit of my earlier and more sprightly days, 
when I used to accompany my armed nobles, and 
wish to be myself a man, to know what life it was 
to be in the fields with sword and buckler, jack 
and knapscap !" 

"Oh, the lark lives not a gayer life, nor sings a 
lighter and gayer song, than the merry soldier," 
answered Catherine. "Your Grace shall be in 
the midst of them soon, and the look of such a 






244 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

liege sovereign will make each of your host worth 
three in the hour of need ; — but I must to my 
task." 

We have but brief time/' said Queen Mary ; 
one of the two lights in the cottage is extinguished 
— that shows the boat is put off." 

'They will row very slow/' said the page, "or 
kent l where depth permits, to avoid noise. — To 
our several tasks — I will communicate with the 
good father." 

At the dead hour of midnight, when all was 
silent in the castle, the page put the key into the 
lock of the wicket which opened into the garden, 
and which was at the bottom of a staircase that 
descended from the queen's apartment. "Now, 
turn smooth and softly, thou good bolt," said he, 
"if ever oil softened rust !" and his precautions 
had been so effectual, that the bolt revolved with 
little or no sound of resistance. He ventured not 
to cross the threshold, but exchanging a word with 
the disguised abbot, asked if the boat were ready ? 

'This half hour," said the sentinel. "She lies 
beneath the wall, too close under the islet to be 
seen by the warder, but I fear she will hardly es- 
cape his notice in putting off again." 

"The darkness," said the page, "and our pro- 
found silence, may take her off unobserved, as 
she came in. Hildebrand has the watch on the 

1 Propel the boat by pushing with a pole against the bottom of the lake. 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 245 

tower — a heavy-headed knave, who holds a can 
of ale to be the best headpiece upon a night watch. 
He sleeps for a wager." 

"Then bring the queen/' said the abbot, "and 
I will call Henry Seyton to assist them to the 
boat." 

On tiptoe, with noiseless step and suppressed 
breath, trembling at every rustle of their own ap- 
parel, one after another the fair prisoners glided 
down the winding stair, under the guidance of 
Roland Graeme, and were received at the wicket 
gate by Henry Seyton and the churchman. The 
former seemed instantly to take upon himself 
the whole direction of the enterprise. "My Lord 
Abbot," he said, "give my sister your arm — I 
will conduct the queen — and that youth will have 
the honor to guide Lady Fleming." 

This was no time to dispute the arrangement, 
although it was not that which Roland Graeme 
would have chosen. Catherine Seyton, who well 
knew the garden path, tripped on before like a 
sylph, rather leading the abbot than receiving 
assistance — the queen, her native spirit prevail- 
ing over female fear, and a thousand painful reflec- 
tions, moved steadily forward, by the assistance 
of Henry Seyton — while the Lady Fleming en- 
cumbered with her fears and her helplessness 
Roland Graeme, who followed in the rear, and who 
bore under the other arm a packet of necessaries 



246 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

belonging to the queen. The door of the garden, 
which communicated with the shore of the islet, 
yielded to one of the keys of which Roland had 
possessed himself, although not until he had tried 
several, — a moment of anxious terror and expec- 
tation. The ladies were then partly led, partly 
carried, to the side of the lake, where a boat with 
six rowers attended them, the men couched along 
the bottom to secure them from observation. 
Henry Seyton placed the queen in the stern ; the 
abbot offered to assist Catherine, but she was 
seated by the queen's side before he could utter 
his proffer of help ; and Roland Graeme was just 
lifting Lady Fleming over the boat side, when a 
thought suddenly occurred to him, and exclaiming, 
"Forgotten, forgotten ! wait for me but one half 
minute/' he replaced on the shore the helpless 
lady of the bed-chamber, threw the queen's 
packet into the boat, and sped back through the 
garden with the noiseless speed of a bird on the 
wing. 

"By Heaven, he is false at last !" said Seyton; 
"I ever feared it !" 

"He is as true," said Catherine, "as Heaven 
itself, and that I will maintain." 

"Be silent, minion," said her brother, "for 
shame, if not for fear. — Fellows, put off, and row 
for your lives !" 

Help me, help me on board !" said the de- 



a 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 247 

serted Lady Fleming, and that louder than pru- 
dence warranted. 

"Put off — put off!' 5 cried Henry Seyton ; 
"leave all behind, so the queen is safe." 

"Will you permit this, madam ?" said Catherine, 
imploringly ; "you leave your deliverer to death." 

"I will not," said the queen. — "Seyton, I 
command you to stay at every risk." 

"Pardon me, madam, if I disobey," said the 
intractable young man ; and with one hand lifting 
in Lady Fleming, he began himself to push off the 
boat. 

She was two fathoms' length from the shore, 
and the rowers were getting her head round, when 
Roland Graeme, arriving, bounded from the beach, 
and attained the boat, overturning Seyton, on 
whom he lighted. The youth swore a deep but 
suppressed oath, and stopping Graeme as he stepped 
towards the stern, said, "Your place is not with 
high-born dames — keep at the head and trim the 
vessel. — Now give way — give way! — Row, for 
God and the queen !" 

The rowers obeyed, and began to pull vigorously. 

"Why did you not muffle the oars ?" said 
Roland Graeme; "the dash must awaken the 
sentinel. — Row, lads, and get out of reach of shot ; 
for had not old Hildebrand, the warder, supped 
upon poppy-porridge, this whispering must have 
waked him." 



248 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"It was all thine own delay/' said Seyton ; 
"thou shalt reckon with me hereafter for that and 
other matters." 

But Roland's apprehension was verified too 
instantly to permit him to reply. The sentinel, 
whose slumbering had withstood the whispering, 
was alarmed by the dash of the oars. His chal- 
lenge was instantly heard. "A boat — a boat ! — 
bring to, or I shoot !" And, as they continued to 
ply their oars, he called aloud, "Treason ! trea- 
son !" rung the bell of the castle, and dis- 
charged his harquebuss at the boat. The ladies 
crowded on each other like startled wild fowl at 
the flash and report of the piece, while the men 
urged the rowers to the utmost speed. They 
heard more than one ball whiz along the surface 
of the lake, at no great distance from their little 
bark ; and from the lights, which glanced like 
meteors from window to window, it was evident 
the whole castle was alarmed, and their escape 
discovered. 

"Pull!" again exclaimed Seyton; "stretch to 
your oars, or I will spur you to the task with my 
dagger — they will launch a boat immediately." 

'That is cared for," said Roland; "I locked 
gate and wicket on them when I went back, and 
no boat will stir from the island this night, if 
doors of good oak and bolts of iron can keep men 
within stone walls. — And now I resign my office 



QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN 249 

of porter of Lochleven, and give the keys to the 
Kelpie's 1 keeping." 

As the heavy keys plunged in the lake, the ab- 
bot, who till then had been repeating his prayers, 
exclaimed, "Now, bless thee, my son ! for thy 
ready prudence puts shame on us all." 

"I knew," said Mary, drawing her breath more 
freely, as they were now out of reach of the mus- 
ketry — "I knew my squire's truth, promptitude, 
and sagacity. — I must have him dear friends with 
my no less true knights, Douglas and Seyton — 
but where, then, is Douglas r" 

"Here, madam," answered the deep and mel- 
ancholy voice of the boatman who sat next her, 
and who acted as steersman. 

"Alas ! was it you who stretched your body 
before me," said the queen, "when the balls were 
raining around us ?" 

"Believe you," said he, in a low tone, "that 
Douglas would have resigned to any one the 
chance of protecting his queen's life with his 
own ?" 

The dialogue was here interrupted by a shot or 
two from one of those small pieces of artillery 
called falconets, then used in defending castles. 
The shot was too vague to have any effect, but the 
broader flash, the deeper sound, the louder return 

1 The kelpie was an imaginary spirit of the waters, sometimes appearing 
in the form of a horse. 



250 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

which was made by the midnight echoes of Ben- 
narty, 1 terrified and imposed silence on the liber- 
ated prisoners. The boat was alongside of a rude 
quay or landing place, running out from a garden 
of considerable extent, ere any of them again 
attempted to speak. They landed, and while the 
abbot returned thanks aloud to Heaven, which 
had thus far favored their enterprise, Douglas 
enjoyed the best reward of his desperate under- 
taking, in conducting the queen to the house of 

the gardener. 

From "The Abbot." 

1 A hill about a mile to the south of Lochleven. 



MARMION AND DOUGLAS 

[Marmion, an English nobleman, has been sent by Henry 
VIII on an important and delicate mission to James IV of 
Scotland. On his journey homeward he is entertained by 
Lord Douglas in his castle of Tantallon. The hospitality is 
offered by request of King James, but Douglas, in reality, 
despises Marmion, whose base treachery and deceit he has 
just discovered. 

As the English lord takes his leave, the real attitude of his 
host discloses itself.] 

Not far advanced was morning day, 
When Marmion did his troop array 

To Surrey's * camp to ride ; 
He had safe-conduct for his band, 
Beneath the royal seal and hand, 

And Douglas gave a guide. 
The train from out the castle drew, 
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu : 
"Though something I might plain," he said, 
"Of cold respect to stranger guest, 
Sent hither by your king's behest, 

While in Tantallon's towers I stayed, 
Part we in friendship from your land, 
And, noble Earl, receive my hand." 
But Douglas round him drew his cloak, 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : 

1 Lord Surrey, commander of the English troops at Flodden Field. 

2Si 



252 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 
Be open, at my sovereign's will, 
To each one whom he lists, howe'er 
Unmeet to be the owner's peer. 
My castles are my king's alone, 
From turret to foundation stone, — 
The hand of Douglas is his own ; 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp." 



Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, 
And shook his very frame for ire, 

And — "This to me !" he said, — 
"And 'twere not for thy hoary beard, 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas' head ! 
And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer, 
He, who does England's message here, 
Although the meanest in her state, 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate : 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, 

Even in thy pitch of pride, 
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near 
(Nay, never look upon your lord, 
And lay your hands upon your sword), 

I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! 
And if thou saidst, I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here, 



254 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Lowland or Highland, far or near, 

Lord Angus, thou hast lied !" 
On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 
Overcame the ashen hue of age : 
Fierce he broke forth, — "And dar'st thou then 
To beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his hall ? 
And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go ? — 
No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, 1 no ! 
Up drawbridge, grooms, — what, warder, ho ! 

Let the portcullis fall." 
Lord Marmion turned, — well was his need, — 
And dashed the rowels in his steed, 
Like arrow through the archway sprung, 
The ponderous gate behind him rung ; 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars, descending, razed his plume. 

The steed along the drawbridge flies, 
Just as it trembled on the rise ; 
Nor lighter does the swallow skim 
Along the smooth lake's level brim : 
And when Lord Marmion reached his band, 
He halts, and turns with clenched hand, 
And shout of loud defiance pours, 
And shook his gauntlet at the towers. 

From "Marmion." 

1 Saint Bridget of Ireland became a popular saint in England and Scot- 
land also; but there she was better known as Saint Bride. 



WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 

[The Earl of Sussex being ill, Queen Elizabeth sent her 
physician, Dr. Masters, to inquire after his health. Walter 
Raleigh, a young gentleman of Sussex's household, flatly 
refused him admittance. This is the story of how the in- 
cident led to Raleigh's presentation to the queen.] 

When the message of the queen was communi- 
cated to the Earl of Sussex, he at first smiled at 
the repulse which the physician had received from 
his zealous young follower, but instantly recollect- 
ing himself, he commanded Blount, his master of 
the horse, instantly to take boat, and go down 
the river to the Palace of Greenwich, taking young 
Walter and Tracy with him, and make a suitable 
compliment, expressing his grateful thanks to his 
sovereign, and mentioning the cause why he had 
not been enabled to profit by the assistance of the 
wise and learned Doctor Masters. 

■ "A plague on it," said Blount, as he descended 
the stairs, "had he sent me with a cartel to Leices- 
ter, I think I should have done his errand indif- 
ferently well. But to go to our gracious sovereign, 
before whom all words must be lackered over either 
with gilding or with sugar, is such a confectionery 
matter as clean baffles my poor old English brain. 
— Come with me, Tracy, and come you too, Mas- 

255 



256 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

ter Walter Wittypate, that art the cause of our 
having all this ado. Let us see if thy neat brain, 
that frames so many flashy fireworks, can help 
out a plain fellow at need with some of thy shrewd 
devices/' 

"Never fear, never fear," exclaimed the youth, 
"it is I will help you through — let me but fetch 
my cloak. " 

"Why, thou hast it on thy shoulders," said 
Blount, — "the lad is mazed." 

"No, no, this is Tracy's old mantle," answered 
Walter; "I go not with thee to court unless as a 
gentleman should." 

"Why," said Blount, "thy braveries are like 
to dazzle the eyes of none but some poor groom or 
porter." 

"I know that," said the youth ; "but I am re- 
solved I will have my own cloak, ay, and brush my 
doublet to boot, ere I stir forth with you." 

They were soon launched on the princely bosom 
of the broad Thames, upon which the sun now 
shone forth in all its splendor. 

"There are two things scarce matched in the 
universe," said Walter to Blount, — "the sun in 
heaven, and the Thames on the earth." 

"The one will light us to Greenwich well 
enough," said Blount, "and the other would take 
us there a little faster if it were ebb tide." 

"And this is all thou think'st — all thou carest 



WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 257 

— all thou deem'st the use of the King of Elements, 
and the King of Rivers, to guide three such poor 
caitiffs, as thyself, and me, and Tracy, upon an 
idle journey of courtly ceremony \" 

"It is no errand of my seeking, faith," replied 
Blount, "and I could excuse both the sun and the 
Thames the trouble of carrying me where I have 
no great mind to go ; and where I expect but dog's 
wages for my trouble — and by my honor/' 
he added, looking out from the head of the boat, 
"it seems to me as if our message were a sort of 
labor in vain ; for see, the queen's barge lies at the 
stairs, as if her Majesty were about to take water." 

It was even so. The royal barge, manned with 
the queen's watermen, richly attired in the regal 
liveries, and having the banner of England dis- 
played, did indeed lie at the great stairs which 
ascended from the river, and along with it two or 
three other boats for transporting such part of her 
retinue as were not in immediate attendance on 
the royal person. The yeomen of the guard, the 
tallest and most handsome men which England 
could produce, guarded with their halberds the 
passage from the palace gate to the river side, and 
all seemed in readiness for the queen's coming 
forth, although the day was yet so early. 

"By my faith, this bodes us no good," said 
Blount ; "it must be some perilous cause puts her 
Grace in motion thus untimeously. By my coun- 



258 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

sel, we were best put back again, and tell the Earl 
what we have seen." 

"Tell the Earl what we have seen I" said Walter ; 
"why, what have we seen but a boat, and men with 
scarlet jerkins, and halberds in their hands ? Let 
us do his errand, and tell him what the queen says 
in reply. " 

So saying, he caused the boat to be pulled to- 
wards a landing place at some distance from the 
principal one, which it would not, at that moment, 
have been thought respectful to approach, and 
jumped on shore, followed, though with reluctance, 
by his cautious and timid companions. As they 
approached the gate of the palace, one of the ser- 
geant porters told them they could not at present 
enter, as her Majesty was in the act of coming 
forth. The gentlemen used the name of the Earl 
of Sussex ; but it proved no charm to subdue the 
officer, who alleged in reply, that it was as much 
as his post was worth, to disobey in the least tittle 
the commands which he had received. 

Nay, I told you as much before, " said Blount ; 

do, I pray you, my dear Walter, let us take boat 
and return." 

"Not till I see the queen come forth," returned 
the youth, composedly. 

"Thou art mad, stark mad, by the mass !" 
answered Blount. 

"And thou," said Walter, "art turned coward 






WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 259 

of the sudden. I have seen thee face half a score 
of shag-headed Irish kernes to thy own share of 
them, and now thou wouldst blink and go back 
to shun the frown of a fair lady !" 

At this moment the gates opened, and ushers 
began to issue forth in array, preceded and flanked 
by the band of Gentlemen Pensioners. After 
this, amid a crowd of lords and ladies, yet so dis- 
posed around her that she could see and be seen 
on all sides, came Elizabeth herself, then in the 
prime of womanhood, and in the full glow of what 
in a sovereign was called beauty, and who would 
in the lowest rank of life have been truly judged 
a noble figure, joined to a striking and command- 
ing physiognomy. She leant on the arm of Lord 
Hunsdon, whose relation to her by her mother's 
side often procured him such distinguished marks 
of Elizabeth's intimacy. 

The young cavalier we have so often mentioned 
had probably never yet approached so near the 
person of his sovereign, and he pressed forward as 
far as the line of warders permitted, in order to 
avail himself of the present opportunity. His 
companion, on the contrary, cursing his impru- 
dence, kept pulling him backwards, till Walter 
shook him off impatiently, and letting his rich 
cloak drop carelessly from one shoulder ; a natural 
action, which served, however, to display to the 
best advantage his well-proportioned person. Un- 




The Queen and Walter Raleigh 

260 



WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 261 

bonneting at the same time, he fixed his eager gaze 
on the queen's approach, with a mixture of re- 
spectful curiosity, and modest yet ardent admira- 
tion, which suited so well with his fine features, 
that the warders, struck with his rich attire and 
noble countenance, suffered him to approach the 
ground over which the queen was to pass, some- 
what closer than was permitted to ordinary spec- 
tators. Thus the adventurous youth stood full 
in Elizabeth's eye, — an eye never indifferent to 
the admiration which she deservedly excited among 
her subjects, or to the fair proportions of external 
form which chanced to distinguish any of her 
courtiers. Accordingly, she fixed her keen glance 
on the youth, as she approached the place where 
he stood, with a look in which surprise at his 
boldness seemed to be unmingled with resentment, 
while a trifling accident happened which attracted 
her attention towards him yet more strongly. The 
night had been rainy, and just where the young 
gentleman stood, a small quantity of mud inter- 
rupted the queen's passage. As she hesitated 
to pass on, the gallant, throwing his cloak from 
his shoulders, laid it on the miry spot, so as to 
insure her stepping over it dry-shod. Elizabeth 
looked at the young man, who accompanied this 
act of devoted courtesy with a profound reverence, 
and a blush that overspread his whole countenance. 
The queen was confused, and blushed in her turn, 



262 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

nodded her head, hastily passed on, and embarked 
in her barge without saying a word. 

"Come along, Sir Coxcomb," said Blount ; "your 
gay cloak will need the brush to-day, I wot. Nay, 
if you had meant to make a foot cloth of your 
mantle, better have kept Tracy's old drab-de- 
bure, 1 which despises all colors." 

"This cloak," said the youth, taking it up and 
folding it, "shall never be brushed while in my 
possession." 

"And that will not be long, if you learn not a 
little more economy — we shall have you in 
cuerpo 2 soon, as the Spaniard says." 

Their discourse was here interrupted by one of 
the Band of Pensioners. 

"I was sent," said he, after looking at them 
attentively, "to a gentleman who hath no cloak, 
or a muddy one. — You, sir, I think," addressing 
the younger cavalier, "are the man; you will 
please to follow me." 

"He is in attendance on me," said Blount ; "on 
me, the noble Earl of Sussex's master of horse." 

"I have nothing to say to that," answered the 
messenger; "my orders are directly from her 
Majesty, and concern this gentleman only." 

So saying, he walked away, followed by Walter, 
leaving the others behind, Blount's eyes almost 

1 Drap-de-Berry, a kind of woolen cloth, made in Berry, France. 

2 Half-dressed. 



WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 263 

starting from his head with the excess of his as- 
tonishment. At length he gave vent to it in an 
exclamation — "Who the good jere x would have 
thought this !" And shaking his head with a 
mysterious air, he walked to his own boat, em- 
barked, and returned to Deptford. 

The young cavalier was, in the meanwhile, 
guided to the water side by the Pensioner, who 
showed him considerable respect ; a circumstance 
which, to persons in his situation, may be con- 
sidered as an augury of no small consequence. 
He ushered him into one of the wherries which lay 
ready to attend the queen's barge, which was 
already proceeding up the river, with the advan- 
tage of that flood tide, of which, in the course 
of their descent, Blount had complained to his 
associates. 

The two rowers used their oars with such ex- 
pedition at the signal of the Gentleman Pensioner, 
that they very soon brought their little skiff under 
the stern of the queen's boat, where she sate be- 
neath an awning, attended by two or three ladies, 
and the nobles of her household. She looked more 
than once at the wherry in which the young ad- 
venturer was seated, spoke to those around her, 
and seemed to laugh. At length one of the attend- 
ants, by the queen's order apparently, made a 

*A meaningless expletive — "who the good year"; equivalent to 
"who the deuce. " 



264 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

sign for the wherry to come alongside, and the 
young man was desired to step from his own skiff 
into the queen's barge, which he performed with 
graceful agility at the fore part of the boat, and 
was brought aft to the queen's presence, the 
wherry at the same time dropping into the rear. 
The youth underwent the gaze of Majesty, not the 
less gracefully that his self-possession was mingled 
with embarrassment. The muddied cloak still 
hung upon his arm, and formed the natural topic 
with which the queen introduced the conversation. 

"You have this day spoiled a gay mantle in our 
behalf, young man. We thank you for your 
service, though the manner of offering it was un- 
usual, and something bold." 

"In a sovereign's need," answered the youth, "it 
is each liege man's duty to be bold." 

"That was well said, my lord," said the queen, 
turning to a grave person who sate by her, and 
answered with a grave inclination of the head, 
and something of a mumbled assent. "Well, 
young man, your gallantry shall not go unrewarded. 
Go to the wardrobe keeper, and he shall have 
orders to supply the suit which you have cast 
away in our service. Thou shalt have a suit and 
that of the newest cut, I promise thee, on the 
word of a princess." 

"May it please your Grace," said Walter, hesi- 
tating, "it is not for so humble a servant of your 



WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 265 

Majesty to measure out your bounties ; but if it 
became me to choose — " 

"Thou wouldst have gold, I warrant me/' said 
the queen, interrupting him; "fie, young man! 
I take shame to say, that, in our capital, such and 
so various are the means of thriftless folly, that to 
give gold to youth is giving fuel to fire, and fur- 
nishing them with the means of self-destruction. 
If I live and reign, these means of unchristian 
excess shall be abridged. Yet thou mayst be 
poor," she added, "or thy parents may be. — It 
shall be gold, if thou wilt, but thou shalt answer 
to me for the use on't." 

Walter waited patiently until the queen had 
done, and then modestly assured her, that gold was 
still less in his wish than the raiment her Majesty 
had before offered. 

"How, boy !" said the queen, "neither gold nor 
garment ? What is it thou wouldst have of me, 
then ?" 

"Only permission, madam — if it is not asking 
too high an honor — permission to wear the cloak 
which did you this trifling service." 

"Permission to wear thine own cloak, thou 
silly boy !" said the queen. 

"It is no longer mine," said Walter; "when 
your Majesty's foot touched it, it became a fit 
mantle for a prince, but far too rich a one for its 
former owner." 



266 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

The queen again blushed ; and endeavored to 
cover, by laughing, a slight degree of not unpleasing 
surprise and confusion. 

"Heard you ever the like, my lords ? The 
youth's head is turned with reading romances — 
I must know something of him, that I may send 
him safe to his friends. . . . But for thee, young 
man, what is thy name and birth ?" 

"Raleigh is my name, most gracious queen, 
the youngest son of a large but honorable family 
of Devonshire." 

"Raleigh ?" said Elizabeth, after a moment's 
recollection ; "have we not heard of your service 
in Ireland ?" 

"I have been so fortunate as to do some service 
there, madam," replied Raleigh, "scarce, however, 
of consequence sufficient to reach your Grace's 



5? 

ears. 



"They hear farther than you think of,"said the 
queen, graciously, "and have heard of a youth 
who defended a ford in Shannon against a whole 
band of wild Irish rebels, until the stream ran 
purple with their blood and his own." 

"Some blood I may have lost," said the youth, 
looking down, "but it was where my best is due ; 
and that is in your Majesty's service." 

The queen paused, and then said hastily, "You 
are very young, to have fought so well, and to 
speak so well. But you must not escape your 



WALTER RALEIGH MEETS THE QUEEN 267 

penance for turning back Masters — the poor 
man hath caught cold on the river ; for our order 
reached him when he was just returned from cer- 
tain visits in London, and he held it matter of 
loyalty and conscience instantly to set forth again. 
So hark ye, Master Raleigh, see thou fail not to 
wear thy muddy cloak, in token of penitence, till 
our pleasure be farther known. And here/' she 
added, giving him a jewel of gold, in the form of a 
chessman, "I give thee this to wear at the collar." 
Raleigh, to whom nature had taught intuitively, 
as it were, those courtly arts which many scarce 
acquire from long experience, knelt, and, as he took 
from her hand the jewel, kissed the fingers which 
gave it. He knew, perhaps, better than almost any 
of the courtiers who surrounded her, how to mingle 
the devotion claimed by the queen, with the 
gallantry due to her personal beauty — and in 
this, his first attempt to unite them, he succeeded 
so well, as at once to gratify Elizabeth's personal 
vanity, and her love of power. 

From " Kenilworth." 



QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WELCOME TO 
KENILWORTH 

[Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, was the favorite of 
Queen Elizabeth ; and upon the occasion of her visiting him 
at his Castle of Kenilworth, he prepared for her an enter- 
tainment of princely magnificence.] 

It was the twilight of a summer night (9th 
July, 1575), the sun having for some time set, 
and all were in anxious expectation of the queen's 
immediate approach. The multitude had re- 
mained assembled for many hours, and their 
numbers were still rather on the increase. A pro- 
fuse distribution of refreshments, together with 
roasted oxen, and barrels of ale set a-broach in 
different places of the road, had kept the populace 
in perfect love and loyalty towards the queen and 
her favorite, which might have somewhat abated 
had fasting been added to watching. They passed 
away the time, therefore, with the usual popular 
amusements of whooping, hallooing, shrieking, 
and playing rude tricks upon each other, forming 
the chorus of discordant sounds usual on such 
occasions. These prevailed all through the 
crowded roads and fields, and especially beyond 
the gate of the Chase, where the greater number 
of the common sort were stationed ; when, all 

268 



QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WELCOME TO KENILWORTH 269 

of a sudden, a single rocket was seen to shoot into 
the atmosphere, and, at the instant, far heard over 
flood and field, the great bell of the castle tolled. 

Immediately there was a pause of dead silence, 
succeeded by a deep hum of expectation, the united 
voice of many thousands, none of whom spoke 
above their breath ; or, to use a singular expres- 
sion, the whisper of an immense multitude. 

'They come now, for certain," said Raleigh. 
"Tressilian, that sound is grand. We hear it 
from this distance, as mariners, after a long voy- 
age, hear, upon their night watch, the tide rush 
upon some distant and unknown shore." 

"Mass \" answered Blount, "I hear it rather as 
I used to hear mine own kine lowing from the close 
of Wittenswestlowe." . . . 

Their further conversation was interrupted by 
a shout of applause from the multitude, so tre- 
mendously vociferous, that the country echoed for 
miles round. The guards, thickly stationed upon 
the road by which the queen was to advance, 
caught up the acclamation, which ran like wildfire 
to the castle, and announced to all within, that 
Queen Elizabeth had entered the Royal Chase of 
Kenilworth. The whole music of the castle 
sounded at once, and a round of artillery, with a 
salvo of small arms, was discharged from the battle- 
ments ; but the noise of drums and trumpets, 
and even of the cannon themselves, was but 



270 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

faintly heard amidst the roaring and reiterated 
welcomes of the multitude. 

As the noise began to abate, a broad glare of 
light was seen to appear from the gate of the park, 
and, broadening and brightening as it came nearer, 
advanced along the open and fair avenue that led 
towards the gallery tower ; and' which, as we 
have already noticed, was lined on either hand by 
the retainers of the Earl of Leicester. The word 
was passed along the line. "The Queen ! The 
Queen ! Silence, and stand fast !' 5 Onward came 
the cavalcade, illuminated by two hundred thick 
waxen torches, in the hands of as many horse- 
men, which cast a light like that of broad day all 
around the procession, but especially on the prin- 
cipal group, of which the queen herself, arrayed 
in the most splendid manner, and blazing with 
jewels, formed the central figure. She was 
mounted on a milk-white horse, which she reined 
with peculiar grace and dignity ; and in the whole 
of her stately and noble carriage, you saw the 
daughter of an hundred kings. 

The ladies of the court, who rode beside her 
Majesty, had taken especial care that their own 
external appearance should not be more glorious 
than their rank and the occasion altogether de- 
manded, so that no inferior luminary might ap- 
pear to approach the orbit of royalty. But their 
personal charms, and the magnificence by which, 



QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WELCOME TO KENILWORTH 271 

under every prudential restraint, they were nec- 
essarily distinguished, exhibited them as the very 
flower of a realm so far famed for splendor and 
beauty. The magnificence of the courtiers, free 
from such restraints as prudence imposed on the 
ladies, was yet more unbounded. 

Leicester, who glittered like a golden image with 
jewels and cloth of gold, rode on her Majesty's 
right hand, as well in quality of her host, as of her 
Master of the Horse. The black steed which he 
mounted had not a single white hair on his body, 
and was one of the most renowned chargers in 
Europe, having been purchased by the Earl at 
large expense for this royal occasion. As the noble 
animal chafed at the slow pace of the procession, 
and, arching his stately neck, champed on the 
silver bits which restrained him, the foam flew from 
his mouth, and specked his well-formed limbs as 
if with spots of snow. The rider well became the 
high place which he held, and the proud steed 
which he bestrode ; for no man in England, or 
perhaps in Europe, was more perfect than Dudley 
in horsemanship, and all other exercises belonging 
to his quality. He was bare-headed, as were all 
the courtiers in the train ; and the red torchlight 
shone upon his long curled tresses of dark hair, 
and on his noble features, to the beauty of which 
even the severest criticism could only object the 
lordly fault, as it may be termed, of a forehead 



272 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

somewhat too high. On that proud evening, those 
features wore all the grateful solicitude of a sub- 
ject, to show himself sensible of the high honor 
which the queen was conferring on him, and all 
the pride and satisfaction which became so glorious 
a moment. . . . 

The train, male and female, who attended im- 
mediately upon the queen's person, were of course 
of the bravest and the fairest — the highest born 
nobles and the wisest counselors, of that distin- 
guished reign, to repeat whose names were but 
to weary the reader. Behind came a long crowd 
of knights and gentlemen, whose rank and birth, 
however distinguished, were thrown into shade, 
as their persons into the rear of a procession, whose 
front was of such august majesty. 

Thus marshaled, the cavalcade approached the 
gallery tower, which formed the extreme barrier 
of the castle. 

It was now the part of the huge porter to step 
forward ; but the lubbard was so overwhelmed 
with confusion of spirit, — the contents of one 
immense black jack of double ale, which he had 
just drank to quicken his memory, having treacher- 
ously confused the brain it was intended to clear, 
— that he only groaned piteously, and remained 
sitting on his stone seat ; and the queen would 
have passed on without greeting, had not the gigan- 
tic warder's secret ally, Flibbertigibbet, who lay 



QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WELCOME TO KENILWORTH 273 

perdue behind him, thrust a pin into the rear of 
the short femoral garment which we elsewhere 
described. 

The porter uttered a sort of a yell, which came 
not amiss into his part, started up with his club, 
and dealt a sound douse or two on each side of him ; 
and then, like a coach horse pricked by the spur, 
started off at once, into the full career of his ad- 
dress, and by dint of active prompting on the part 
of Dickie Sludge, delivered, in sounds of gigantic 
intonation, a speech which may be thus abridged ; 
— the reader being to suppose that the first lines 
were addressed to the throng who approached the 
gateway ; the conclusion, at the approach of the 
queen, upon sight of whom, as struck by some 
heavenly vision, the gigantic warder dropped his 
club, resigned his keys, and gave open way to the 
goddess of the night, and all her magnificent train. 

"What stir, what turmoil, have we for the nones ? 
Stand back, my masters, or beware your bones ! 
Sirs, I'm a warder, and no man of straw, 
My voice keeps order, and my club gives law. 

"Yet soft — nay, stay — what vision have we here ? 
What dainty darling's this — what peerless peer ? 
What loveliest face, that loving ranks unfold, 
Like brightest diamond chased in purest gold ? 
Dazzled and blind, mine office I forsake, 
My club, my key. My knee, my homage take, 
Bright paragon ; pass on in joy and bliss ; — 
Beshrew the gate that opes not wide at such a sight as this I" 



274 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Elizabeth received most graciously the homage 
of the Herculean porter, and, bending her head 
to him in requital, passed through his guarded 
tower, from the top of which was poured a clam- 
orous blast of warlike music, which was replied 
to by other bands of minstrelsy placed at different 
points on the castle walls, and by others again sta- 
tioned in the Chase ; while the tones of the one, as 
they yet vibrated on the echoes, were caught up and 
answered by new harmony from different quarters. 

Amidst these bursts of music, which, as if the 
work of enchantment, seemed now close at hand, 
now softened by distant space, now wailing so low 
and sweet as if that distance were gradually pro- 
longed until only the last lingering strains could 
reach the ear, Queen Elizabeth crossed the gallery 
tower, and came upon the long bridge, which ex- 
tended from thence to Mortimer's Tower, and 
which was already as light as day, so many torches 
had been fastened to the palisades on either side. 
Most of the nobles here alighted, and sent their 
horses to the neighboring village of Kenilworth, 
following the queen on foot, as did the gentlemen 
who had stood in array to receive her at the 
gallery tower. . . . 

Meanwhile, the queen had no sooner stepped 
on the bridge than a new spectacle was provided ; 
for as soon as the music gave signal that she was 
so far advanced, a raft, so disposed as to resemble 



QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WELCOME TO KENILWORTH 275 

a small floating island, illuminated by a great 
variety of torches, and surrounded by floating 
pageants formed to represent sea horses, on which 
sat Tritons, Nereids, and other fabulous deities of 
the seas and rivers, made its appearance upon the 
lake, and, issuing from behind a small heronry 
where it had been concealed, floated gently towards 
the farther end of the bridge. 

On the islet appeared a beautiful woman, clad 
in a watchet-colored x silken mantle, bound with 
a broad girdle, inscribed with characters like the 
phylacteries of the Hebrews. Her feet and arms 
were bare, but her wrists and ankles were adorned 
with gold bracelets of uncommon size. Amidst 
her long silky black hair, she wore a crown or 
chaplet of artificial mistletoe, and bore in her 
hand a rod of ebony tipped with silver. Two 
nymphs attended on her, dressed in the same 
antique and mystical guise. 

The pageant was so well managed, that this 
Lady of the Floating Island, having performed 
her voyage with much picturesque effect, landed 
at Mortimer's Tower with her two attendants, 
just as Elizabeth presented herself before that 
outwork. The stranger then, in a well-penned 
speech, announced herself as that famous Lady of 
the Lake, renowned in the stories of King Arthur, 
who had nursed the youth of the redoubted Sir 

1 Light blue. 



276 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Lancelot, and whose beauty had proved too power- 
ful both for the wisdom and the spells of the mighty 
Merlin. Since that early period she had remained 
possessed of her crystal dominions, she said, de- 
spite the various men of fame and might by whom 
Kenilworth had been successively tenanted. The 
Saxons, the Danes, the Normans, the Saintlowes, 
the Clintons, the Mountforts, the Mortimers, the 
Plantagenets, great though they were in arms and 
magnificence, had never, she said, caused her to 
raise her head from the waters which hid her crystal 
palace. But a greater than all these great names 
had now appeared, and she came in homage and 
duty to welcome the peerless Elizabeth to all sport, 
which the castle and its environs, which lake or 
land, could afford. 

The queen received this address also with great 
courtesy, and made answer in raillery, "We thought 
this lake had belonged to our own dominions, fair 
dame ; but since so famed a lady claims it for hers, 
we will be glad at some other time to have further 
communing with you touching our joint interests. " 

With this gracious answer the Lady of the Lake 
vanished, and Arion, who was amongst the mari- 
time deities, appeared upon his dolphin. But 
Lambourne, who had taken upon him the part in 
the absence of Wayland, being chilled with re- 
maining immersed in an element to which he was 
not friendly, having never got his speech by heart, 



QUEEN ELIZABETH'S WELCOME TO KENILWORTH 277 

and not having, like the porter, the advantage of a 
prompter, paid it off with impudence, tearing off 
his vizard, and swearing, "Cogs bones ! he was 
none of Arion or Orion either, but honest Mike 
Lambourne, that had been drinking her Majesty's 
health from morning till midnight, and was come 
to bid her heartily welcome to Kenilworth Castle." 

This unpremeditated buffoonery answered the 
purpose probably better than the set speech would 
have done. The queen laughed heartily, and swore 
(in her turn) that he had made the best speech 
she had heard that day. Lambourne, who in- 
stantly saw his jest had saved his bones, jumped on 
shore, gave his dolphin a kick, and declared he would 
never meddle with fish again, except at dinner. 

At the same time that the queen was about to 
enter the castle, that memorable discharge of 
fireworks by water and land took place, which 
Master Laneham, formerly introduced to the 
reader, has strained all his eloquence to describe. 

"Such," says the Clerk of the Council-chamber 
door, "was the blaze of burning darts, the gleams 
of stars coruscant, the streams and hail of fiery 
sparks, lightnings of wildfire, and flight shot of 
thunderbolts, with continuance, terror, and ve- 
hemency, that the heavens thundered, the waters 
surged, and the earth shook ; and for my part, 
hardy as I am, it made me very vengeably afraid." 

Under discharge of these splendid fireworks 



278 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

the queen entered the base court of Kenilworth, 
through Mortimer's Tower, and moving on through 
pageants of heathen gods and heroes of antiquity, 
who offered gifts and compliments on the bended 
knee, at length found her way to the great hall of 
the castle, gorgeously hung for her reception with 
the richest silken tapestry, misty with perfumes, 
and sounding to strains of soft and delicious music. 
From the highly carved oaken roof hung a superb 
chandelier of gilt bronze, formed like a spread 
eagle, whose outstretched wings supported three 
male and three female figures, grasping a pair of 
branches in each hand. The hall was thus il- 
luminated by twenty-four torches of wax. At the 
upper end of the splendid apartment was a state 
canopy, overshadowing a royal throne, and beside 
it was a door, which opened to a long suite of 
apartments, decorated with the utmost magnifi- 
cence for the queen and her ladies, whenever it 
should be her pleasure to be private. 

The Earl of Leicester having handed the queen 
up to her throne, and seated her there, knelt down 
before her, and kissing the hand which she held 
out, with an air in which romantic and respectful 
gallantry was happily mingled with the air of 
loyal devotion, he thanked her, in terms of the 
deepest gratitude, for the highest honor which a 
sovereign could render to a subject. 

From " Kenilworth." 



ROSABELLE 

Oh listen, listen, ladies gay ! 

No haughty feat of arms I tell ; 
Soft is the note, and sad the lay, 

That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. 

"Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew, 
And, gentle lady, deign to stay ! 

Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, 
Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. 

"The blackening wave is edged with white ; 

To inch and rock the sea mews fly : 
The fishers have heard the Water Sprite, 

Whose screams forbode that wreck is nigh 

"Last night the gifted Seer did view 

A wet shroud swathed round lady gay ; 
Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch ; 
Why cross the gloomy firth to-day ?'' 

"'Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir 
To-night at Roslin x leads the ball, 

But that my lady mother there 
Sits lonely in her castle hall. 

1 The ancient home of the Saint Clairs. 
279 



280 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 



If, 9 



Tis not because the ring they ride, 
And Lindesay at the ring rides well, 
But that my sire the wine will chide 
If 'tis not filled by Rosabelle." 

O'er Roslin all that dreary night 

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ; 

'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light, 
And redder than the bright moonbeam. 

It glared on Roslin's castled rock, 
It ruddied all the copsewood glen ; 

'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, 
And seen from caverned Hawthornden. 1 

Seemed all on fire that chapel proud 
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie, 

Each baron, for a sable shroud, 
Sheathed in his iron panoply. 

Seemed all on fire, within, around, 
Deep sacristy and altar's pale ; 

Shone every pillar foliage-bound, 

And glimmered all the dead men's mail. 

Blazed battlement and pinnet high, 

Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair, — 

So still they blaze when fate is nigh 
The lordly line of high Saint Clair. 

1 A glen in whose caves Robert Bruce is said to have hidden. 



GLEE FOR KING CHARLES 281 

There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold 
Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; 

Each one the holy vault doth hold, 
But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! 

And each Saint Clair was buried there 
With candle, with book, and with knell ; 

But the sea caves rung, and the wild winds sung 
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. 

From " The Lay of the Last Minstrel." 



GLEE FOR KING CHARLES 

Bring the bowl which you boast, 

Fill it up to the brim ; 
'Tis to him we love most, 

And to all who love him. 
Brave gallants, stand up, 

And avaunt ye, base carles ! 
Were there death in the cup, 

Here's a health to King Charles ! 

Though he wanders through dangers, 

Unaided, unknown, 
Dependent on strangers, 

Estranged from his own ; 
Though 'tis under our breath 

Amidst forfeits and perils, 
Here's to honor and faith, 

And a health to King Charles ! 



282 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Let such honors abound 

As the time can afford, 
The knee on the ground, 

And the hand on the sword ; 
But the time shall come round 

When, 'mid lords, dukes, and earls 5 
The loud trumpet shall sound, 

Here's a health to King Charles ! 

From " Woodstock." 



PATRIOTISM 

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 

This is my own, my native land ! 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turned 

From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
For him no minstrel raptures swell ; 
High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentered all in self, 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. 



PATRIOTISM 283 

O Caledonia ! stern and wild, 

Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 

Land of the mountain and the flood, 

Land of my sires ! what mortal hand 

Can e'er untie the filial band 

That knits me to thy rugged strand ! 

Still, as I view each well-known scene. 

Think what is now, and what hath been, 

Seems as, to me, of all bereft, 

Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; 

And thus I love them better still, 

Even in extremity of ill. 

By Yarrow's streams still let me stray, 

Though none should guide my feeble way ; 

Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, 

Although it chill my withered cheek ; 

Still lay my head by Teviot stone, 

Though there, forgotten and alone, 

The bard may draw his parting groan. 

From "The Lay of the Last Minstrel." 



BONNIE DUNDEE 

[Bonnie Dundee — John Graham of Claverhouse — was 
made Viscount of Dundee in 1688 by James II. After the 
revolution in England, when William of Orange (William III) 
had landed, and James II had fled from London, Claverhouse 
entered Edinburgh with a body of troops. His intention 
was to raise a force in Scotland, drive out William, and re- 
instate James. He found, however, that the feeling in 
Edinburgh was strongly against him, so he suddenly left 
that city. He was killed soon after in the battle of Killie- 
crankie, fighting for King James. Claverhouse was a man 
of wonderful dash and courage, but so cruel that he fully 
earned the name the country people gave him of " Bloody 
Claver'se."] 

To the Lords of Convention * 'twas Claver'se who 

spoke, 
" Ere the king's crown shall fall there are crowns 

to be broke ; 
So let each Cavalier who loves honor and me, 
Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee. 

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, 
Come saddle your horses and call up your 

men ; 
Come open the West Port and let me gang 
free, 
And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee !" 

1 The Scottish Parliament. 
284 



BONNIE DUNDEE 285 

Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street, 
The bells are rung backward, 1 the drums they are 

beat ; 
But the provost, douce 2 man, said, "Just e'en let 

him be, 
The Gude Town is weel quit of that Deil of 

Dundee. " 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 



As he rode down the sanctified bends of the Bow, 3 
Ilk carline 4 was flyting 5 and shaking her pow ; 
But the young plants of grace 6 they looked 

couthie 7 and slee, 8 
Thinking, luck to thy bonnet, thou Bonny Dundee ! 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 



With sour-featured Whigs the Grassmarket 9 was 

crammed 
As if half the West had set tryst to be hanged ; 
There was spite in each look, there was fear in 

each e'e, 
As they watched for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee. 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

1 To give the alarm. 2 Grave. 

3 The Scottish church formerly held its annual meeting in Bow Street. 

4 Every old woman. 5 Scolding. 
6 The Scottish maidens. 7 Kindly. 

8 Sly. 9 A square where executions took place in Edinburgh. 



286 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

These cowls of Kilmarnock v had spits and had 

spears, 
And lang-hafted gullies 2 to kill Cavaliers ; 
But they shrunk to close-heads and the causeway 

was free, 
At the toss of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee. 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

He spurred to the foot of the proud Castle rock, 3 
And with the gay Gordon 4 he gallantly spoke ; 
" Let Mons Meg 5 and her marrows 6 speak twa 

words or three, 
For the love of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee." 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

The Gordon demands of him which way he goes — 
" Where'er shall direct me the shade of Montrose ! 
Your Grace in short space shall hear tidings of me, 
Or that low lies the bonnet of Bonny Dundee. 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

" There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond 

Forth, 
If there's lords in the Lowlands, there's chiefs in 

the North ; 

1 Puritans or Covenanters of West Scotland. 2 Large knives. 

3 The rock on which Edinburgh Castle stands. 

4 The Duke of Gordon, who held the castle for King James. 

5 A huge cannon. 6 Companions, 



BONNIE DUNDEE 287 

There are wild Duniewassals * three thousand 

times three, 
Will cry 'hoigh !' for the bonnet of Bonny Dundee. 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

" There's brass on the target of barkened 2 bullhide ; 
There's steel in the scabbard that dangles beside ; 
The brass shall be burnished, the steel shall flash 

free, 
At the toss of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee. 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

" Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks — 
Ere I own an usurper, I'll couch with the fox ; 
And tremble, false Whigs, in the midst of your glee, 
You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me ! " 
Come fill up my cup, etc. 

He waved his proud hand and the trumpets were 

blown, 
The kettledrums clashed, and the horsemen rode on, 
Till on Ravelston's cliffs 2 and on Clermiston's lee 3 
Died away the wild war notes of Bonny Dundee. 
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, 
Come saddle the horses and call up the men ; 
Come open your gates and let me gae free, 
For it's up with the bonnets of Bonny Dundee ! 

From " The Doom of Devorgoil." 

1 Highland chiefs and their followers. 2 Hardened. 

3 Places near Edinburgh. 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 

[Balfour of Burley, Henry Morton, and certain preachers, 
of whom Macbriar was one, were leaders in a rebellion 
against Charles II of England. The rebels belonged to the 
Scotch Covenant. They met the king's troops under the 
Duke of Monmouth and Colonel John Graham of Claver- 
house at Bothwell Brigg. The day went against them and 
the captured leaders were taken for trial to Edinburgh.] 

The Privy Council of Scotland, in whom the 
practice since the union of the crowns vested great 
judicial powers, as well as the general superin- 
tendence of the executive department, was met in 
the ancient dark Gothic room, adjoining to the 
House of Parliament in Edinburgh, when General 
Graham entered and took his place amongst the 
members at the council table. 

"You have brought us a leash of game to-day, 
general/' said a nobleman of high place amongst 
them. "Here is a craven to confess — a cock of 
the game to stand at bay — and what shall I call 
the third, general ?" 

"Without further metaphor, I will intreat your 
Grace to call him a person in whom I am specially 
interested," replied Claverhouse. 

"And a Whig into the bargain ?" said the noble- 
man, lolling out a tongue which was at all times too 

288 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 289 

big for his mouth, and accommodating his coarse 
features to a sneer, to which they seemed to be 
familiar. 

"Yes, please your Grace, a Whig, as your Grace 
was in 1641," replied Claverhouse, with his usual 
appearance of imperturbable civility. 

"He has you there, I think, my Lord Duke/' 
said one of the Privy Councilors. 

"Ay, ay," returned the duke, laughing, "there's 
no speaking to him since Drumclog x — but come, 
bring in the prisoners — and do you, Mr. Clerk, 
read the record." 

The clerk read forth a bond, in which General 
Graham of Claverhouse and Lord Evandale 
entered themselves securities, that Henry Morton, 
younger of Milnwood, should go abroad and re- 
main in foreign parts, until his Majesty's pleasure 
was further known, in respect of the said Henry 
Morton's accession to the late rebellion, and that 
under penalty of life and limb to the said Henry 
Morton and of ten thousand marks to each of his 



securities. 



Do you accept of the king's mercy upon these 
terms, Mr. Morton ?" said the Duke of Lauder- 
dale, who presided in the Council. 

"I have no other choice, my lord," replied 
Morton. 

'Then subscribe your name in the record." 

1 The Scottish Covenanters defeated the Royalists at Drumclog in 1679. 



290 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Morton did so without reply, conscious that, in 
the circumstances of his case, it was impossible 
for him to have escaped more easily. Macbriar, 
who was at the same instant brought to the foot 
of the council table, bound upon a chair, for his 
weakness prevented him from standing, beheld 
Morton in the act of what he accounted apostasy. 

"He hath summed his defection by owning the 
carnal power of the tyrant !" he exclaimed, with a 
deep groan — "A fallen star ! — a fallen star \" 

"Hold your peace, sir/' said the duke, "and 
keep your ain breath to cool your ain porridge — 
ye'll find them scalding hot, I promise you. — 
Call in the other fellow, who has some common 
sense. One sheep will leap the ditch when another 
goes first." 

Cuddie was introduced unbound, but under 
the guard of two halberdiers, and placed beside 
Macbriar at the foot of the table. The poor 
fellow cast a piteous look around him, in which 
were mingled awe for the great men in whose 
presence he stood, and compassion for his fellow- 
sufferers, with no small fear of the personal conse- 
quences which impended over himself. He made 
his clownish obeisances with a double portion of 
reverence, and then awaited the opening of the 
awful scene. 

"Were you at the battle of Bothwell Brigg ?" was 
the first question which was thundered in his ears. 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 291 

Cuddie meditated a denial, but had sense enough, 
upon reflection, to discover that the truth would be 
too strong for him ; so he replied, with true Cale- 
donian indirectness of response, "I'll no say but 
it may be possible that I might hae been there/' 

"Answer directly, you knave — yes, or no? — 
You know you were there. " 

"It's no for me to contradict your Lordship's 
Grace's honor," said Cuddie. 

"Once more, sir, were you there ? — yes, or no ? ,J 
said the duke, impatiently. 

"Dear sir," again replied Cuddie, "how can 
ane mind preceesely where they hae been a' the 
days o' their life ?" 

''Speak out, you scoundrel," said General Dal- 
zell, "or I'll dash your teeth out with my dudgeon- 
haft ! — Do you think we can stand here all day to 
be turning and dodging with you, like greyhounds 
after a hare ?" 

"Aweel, then," said Cuddie, "since naething 
else will please ye, write down that I cannot deny 
but I was there." 

"Well, sir," said the duke, "and do you think 
that the rising upon that occasion was rebellion or 
not?" 

"I'm no just free to gie my opinion, stir," said 
the cautious captive, "on what might cost my 
neck ; but I doubt it will be very little better." 

"Better than what ?" 



292 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Just than rebellion, as your honor ca's it," re- 
plied Cuddie. 

"Well, sir, that's speaking to the purpose," 
replied his Grace. "And are you content to 
accept of the king's pardon for your guilt as a 
rebel, and to keep the church, and pray for the 
king?" 

"Blithely, stir," answered the unscrupulous 
Cuddie; "and drink his health into the bargain, 
when the ale's gude." 

"Egad," said the duke, "this is a hearty cock. 
— What brought you into such a scrape, mine 
honest friend ?" 

"Just ill example, stir," replied the prisoner, 
"and a daft auld jaud of a mither, wr reverence 
to your Grace's honor." 

"Why, God-a-mercy, my friend," replied the 
duke, "take care of bad advice another time; I 
think you are not likely to commit treason on 
your own score. — Make out his free pardon, and 
bring forward the rogue in the chair." 

Macbriar was then moved forward to the post of 
examination. 

"Were you at the battle of Bothwell Bridge ?" 
was, in like manner, demanded of him. 

"I was," answered the prisoner, in a bold and 
resolute tone. 

"Were you armed ?" 

"I was not — I went in my calling as a preacher 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 293 

of God's word, to encourage them that drew the 
sword in His cause." 

"In other words, to aid and abet the rebels ?" 
said the duke. 

"Thou hast spoken it," replied the prisoner. 

"Well, then," continued the interrogator, "let 
us know if you saw John Balfour of Burley among 
the party ? — I presume you know him ?" 

"I bless God that I do know him," replied 
Macbriar; "he is a zealous and a sincere 
Christian." 

"And when and where did you last see this 
pious personage ?" was the query which im- 
mediately followed. 

"I am here to answer for myself," said Macbriar, 
in the same dauntless manner, "and not to en- 
danger others." 

'We shall know," said Dalzell, "how to make 
you find your tongue." 

"If you can make him fancy himself in a con- 
venticle," x answered Lauderdale, "he will find 
it without you. — Come, laddie, speak while the 
play is good — you're too young to bear the bur- 
den will be laid on vou else." 

"I defy you," retorted Macbriar. "This has 
not been the first of my imprisonments or of my 
sufferings ; and, young as I may be, I have lived long 
enough to know how to die when I am called upon." 

1 A meeting of dissenters for religious worship. 



294 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Ay, but there are some things which must go 
before an easy death, if you continue obstinate/' 
said Lauderdale, and rung a small silver bell 
which was placed before him on the table. 

A dark crimson curtain, which covered a sort 
of niche, or Gothic recess in the wall, rose at the 
signal, and displayed the public executioner, a 
tall, grim, and hideous man, having an oaken 
table before him, on which lay thumbscrews, and 
an iron case, called the Scottish boot, used in 
those tyrannical days to torture accused persons. 
Morton, who was unprepared for this ghastly 
apparition, started when the curtain arose, but 
Macbriar's nerves were more firm. He gazed 
upon the horrible apparatus with much com- 
posure ; and if a touch of nature called the blood 
from his cheek for a second, resolution sent it 
back to his brow with greater energy. 

"Do you know who that man is ?" said Lauder- 
dale, in a low, stern voice, almost sinking into a 
whisper. 

"He is, I suppose," replied Macbriar, "the in- 
famous executioner of your bloodthirsty com- 
mands upon the persons of God's people. He 
and you are equally beneath my regard ; and, I 
bless God, I no more fear what he can inflict than 
what you can command. Flesh and blood may 
shrink under the sufferings you can doom me to, 
and poor frail nature may shed tears, or send forth 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 295 

cries ; but I trust my soul is anchored firmly on 
the Rock of Ages/' 

"Do your duty/' said the duke to the 
executioner. 

The fellow advanced, and asked, with a harsh 
and discordant voice, upon which of the prisoner's 
limbs he should first employ his engine. "Let 
him choose for himself/' said the duke ; "I should 
like to oblige him in anything that is reasonable." 

"Since you leave it to me," said the prisoner, 
stretching forth his right leg, "take the best — I 
willingly bestow it in the cause for which I suffer." 

The executioner, with the help of his assistants, 
inclosed the leg and knee within the tight iron 
boot, or case, and then placing a wedge of the 
same metal between the knee and the edge of the 
machine, took a mallet in his hand, and stood 
waiting for further orders. A well-dressed man, 
by profession a surgeon, placed himself by the 
other side of the prisoner's chair, bared the pris- 
oner's arm, and applied his thumb to the pulse 
in order to regulate the torture according to the 
strength of the patient. When these preparations 
were made, the President of the Council repeated 
with the same stern voice the question, "When 
and where did you last see John Balfour of 
Burley ?" 

The prisoner, instead of replying to him, turned 
his eyes to heaven as if imploring Divine strength, 



296 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

and muttered a few words, of which the last were 
distinctly audible, "Thou hast said thy people 
shall be willing in the day of thy power ! ,J 

The Duke of Lauderdale glanced his eye around 
the council as if to collect their suffrages, and, 
judging from their mute signs, gave on his own part 
a nod to the executioner, whose mallet instantly 
descended on the wedge, and, forcing it between 
the knee and the iron boot, occasioned the most 
exquisite pain, as was evident from the flush which 
instantly took place on the brow and on the cheeks 
of the sufferer. The fellow then again raised his 
weapon, and stood prepared to give a second blow. 

"Will you yet say/' repeated the Duke of 
Lauderdale, "where and when you last parted 
from Balfour of Burley ?" 

"You have my answer," said the sufferer reso- 
lutely, and the second blow fell. The third and 
fourth succeeded ; but at the fifth, when a larger 
wedge had been introduced, the prisoner set up a 
scream of agony. 

Morton, whose blood boiled within him at wit- 
nessing such cruelty, could bear no longer, and, 
although unarmed and himself in great danger, 
was springing forward, when Claverhouse, who 
observed his emotion, withheld him by force, 
laying one hand on his arm and the other on his 
mouth, while he whispered, "For God's sake, think 
where you are \" 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 297 

This movement, fortunately for him, was ob- 
served by no other of the councilors, whose atten- 
tion was engaged with the dreadful scene before 
them. 

''He is gone," said the surgeon — "he has 
fainted, my Lords, and human nature can endure 



no more." 



Release him," said the duke ; and added, 
turning to Dalzell, "He will make an old proverb 
good, for he'll scarce ride to-day, though he has 
had his boots on. I suppose we must finish with 
him ?" 

"Ay, dispatch his sentence, and have done 
with him ; we have plenty of drudgery behind." 

Strong waters and essences were busily employed 
to recall the senses of the unfortunate captive ; 
and, when his first faint gasps intimated a return 
of sensation, the duke pronounced sentence of 
death upon him, as a traitor taken in the act of 
open rebellion, and adjudged him to be carried 
from the bar to the common place of execution, 
and there hanged by the neck ; his head and hands 
to be stricken off after death, and disposed of 
according to the pleasure of the Council, and all 
and sundry his movable goods and gear escheat 
and inbrought * to his Majesty's use. 

"Doomster," he continued, "repeat the sentence 
to the prisoner." 

1 Forfeited and confiscated. 



298 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

The office of Doomster was in those days, and 
till a much later period, held by the executioner 
in commendam l with his ordinary functions. The 
duty consisted in reciting to the unhappy criminal 
the sentence of the law as pronounced by the judge, 
which acquired an additional and horrid emphasis 
from the recollection, that the hateful personage 
by whom it was uttered was to be the agent of 
the cruelties he denounced. Macbriar had scarce 
understood the purport of the words as first pro- 
nounced by the Lord President of the Council ; 
but he was sufficiently recovered to listen and to 
reply to the sentence when uttered by the harsh 
and odious voice of the ruffian who was to execute 
it, and at the last awful words, "And this I pro- 
nounce for doom," he answered boldly — "My 
Lords, I thank you for the only favor I looked 
for, or would accept at your hands, namely, that 
you have sent the crushed and maimed carcass, 
which has this day sustained your cruelty, to this 
hasty end. It were indeed little to me whether I 
perish on the gallows or in the prison house ; but 
if death, following close on what I have this day 
suffered, had found me in my cell of darkness and 
bondage, many might have lost the sight how a 
Christian man can suffer in the good cause. For 
the rest, I forgive you, my Lords, for what you 
have appointed and I have sustained — and why 

1 Held along with his ordinary functions. 



BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL 299 

should I not ? — Ye send me to a happy exchange 
— to the company of angels and the spirits of the 
just, for that of frail dust and ashes. — Ye send 
me from darkness into day — from mortality into 
immortality — and, in a word, from earth to 
heaven ! — If the thanks, therefore, and pardon of 
a dying man can do you good, take them at my 
hand, and may your last moments be as happy as 
mine ! 

As he spoke thus, with a countenance radiant 
with joy and triumph, he was withdrawn by those 
who had brought him into the apartment, and ex- 
ecuted within half an hour, dying with the same 
enthusiastic firmness which his whole life had 

evinced. 

From " Old Mortality." 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 

[The family of Ravenswood was once wealthy, but the 
only property now remaining to it is the old Tower of Wolf's 
Crag. This is the story of how a devoted servant sought to 
maintain the former dignity of the castle, when his young 
master sought to entertain a guest.] 

I 

The roar of the sea had long announced their 
approach to the cliffs, on the summit of which, 
like the nest of some sea eagle, the founder of 
the fortalice * had perched his eyry. The pale 
moon, which had hitherto been contending with 
flitting clouds, now shone out, and gave them a 
view of the solitary and naked tower, situated 
on a projecting cliff that beetled on the German 
Ocean. On three sides the rock was precipitous ; 
on the fourth, which was that towards the land, 
it had been originally fenced by an artificial ditch 
and drawbridge, but the latter was broken down 
and ruinous, and the former had been in part filled 
up, so as to allow passage for a horseman into the 
narrow courtyard, encircled on two sides with 
low offices and stables, partly ruinous, and closed 

1 A small fort. 
300 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 301 

on the landward front by a low embattled wall, 
while the remaining side of the quadrangle was 
occupied by the tower itself, which, tall and narrow, 
and built of a grayish stone, stood glimmering in 
the moonlight, like the sheeted specter of some 
huge giant. A wilder, or more disconsolate, dwell- 
ing it was perhaps difficult to conceive. The 
sombrous and heavy sound of the billows, suc- 
cessively dashing against the rocky beach at a pro- 
found distance beneath, was to the ear what the 
landscape was to the eye — a symbol of unvaried 
and monotonous melancholy, not unmingled with 
horror. 

Although the night was not far advanced, there 
was no sign of living inhabitant about this forlorn 
abode, excepting that one, and only one, of the 
narrow and stancheled x windows which appeared 
at irregular heights and distances in the walls of 
the building, showed a small glimmer of light. 

'There/' said Ravenswood, "sits the only male 
domestic that remains to the house of Ravenswood ; 
and it is well that he does remain there, since other- 
wise, we had little hope to find either light or fire. 
But follow me cautiously ; the road is narrow, and 
admits only one horse in front." 

In effect, the path led along a kind of isthmus, 
at the peninsular extremity of which the tower 
was situated, with that exclusive attention to 

1 Stanchioned. 



302 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

strength and security, in preference to every cir- 
cumstance of convenience, which dictated to the 
Scottish barons the choice of their situations, as 
well as their style of building. 

By adopting the cautious mode of approach 
recommended by the proprietor of this wild hold, 
they entered the courtyard in safety. But it 
was long ere the efforts of Ravenswood, though 
loudly exerted by knocking at the low-browed 
entrance, and repeated shouts to Caleb to open 
the gate and admit them, received any answer. 

"The old man must be departed, " he began to 
say, "or fallen into some fit ; for the noise I have 
made would have waked the seven sleepers/' 

At length a timid and hesitating voice replied, 
Master — Master of Ravenswood, is it you ?" 
Yes, it is I, Caleb ; open the door quickly." 

" But is it you in very blood and body ? For I 
would sooner face fifty deevils as my master's 
ghaist, or even his wraith, — wherefore, aroint 
ye, if ye were ten times my master, unless ye come 
in bodily shape, lith 1 and limb." 

"It is I, you old fool," answered Ravenswood, 
"in bodily shape, and alive, save that I am half 
dead with cold." 

The light at the upper window disappeared, and 
glancing from loophole to loophole in slow suc- 
cession, gave intimation that the bearer was in the 

1 Any member of the body. 






THE RUSES OF CALEB 303 

act of descending, with great deliberation, a wind- 
ing staircase occupying one of the turrets which 
graced the angles of the old tower. The tardiness 
of his descent extracted some exclamations of 
impatience from Ravenswood, and several oaths 
from his less patient and more mercurial compan- 
ion. Caleb again paused ere he unbolted the 
door, and once more asked, if they were men of 
mold * that demanded entrance at this time of 
night ? 

"Were I near you, you old fool/ 5 said Bucklaw, 
"I would give you sufficient proofs of my bodily 
condition." 

"Open the gate, Caleb," said his master, in a 
more soothing tone, partly from his regard to the 
ancient and faithful seneschal, partly perhaps 
because he thought that angry words would be 
thrown away, so long as Caleb had a stout iron- 
clenched oaken door betwixt his person and the 
speakers. 

At length Caleb, with a trembling hand, undid 
the bars, opened the heavy door, and stood before 
them, exhibiting his thin gray hairs, bald fore- 
head, and sharp high features, illuminated by a 
quivering lamp which he held in one hand, while 
he shaded and protected its flame with the other. 
The timorous, courteous glance which he threw 
around him — the effect of the partial light upon 

1 Substance, i.e., flesh and blood. 



304 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

his white hair and illumined features, might have 
made a good painting ; but our travelers were 
too impatient for security against the rising storm 
to permit them to indulge themselves in studying 
the picturesque. "Is it you, my dear master? 
is it you yourself, indeed ?" exclaimed the old 
domestic. "I am wae ye suld hae stude waiting 
at your ain gate ; but wha wad hae thought o' 
seeing ye sae sune, and a strange gentleman with 
a — (Here he exclaimed apart, as it were, and to 
some inmate of the tower, in a voice not meant to 
be heard by those in the court) — Mysie — Mysie 
woman ! stir for dear life, and get the fire mended ; 
take the auld three-legged stool, or ony thing that's 
readiest that will make a lowe. 1 — I doubt we are 
but puirly provided, no expecting ye this some 
months, when doubtless ye wad hae been received 
conform till your rank, as gude right is ; but 
natheless" — 

"Natheless, Caleb," said the master, "we must 
have our horses put up, and ourselves too, the best 
way we can. I hope you are not sorry to see me 
sooner than you expected ?" 

" Sorry, my lord ! — I am sure ye sail aye be 
my lord wi' honest folk, as your noble ancestors 
hae been these three hundred years, and never 
asked a Whig's leave. Sorry to see the Lord of 
Ravenswood at ane o' his ain castles ! — (Then 

1 Blaze. 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 305 

again apart to his unseen associate behind the 
screen) — Mysie, kill the brood-hen without think- 
ing twice on it ; let them care that come ahint. — 
No to say it's our best dwelling/' he added, turn- 
ing to Bucklaw ; "but just a strength for the Lord 
of Ravenswood to flee until, — that is no to flee, 
but to retreat until in troublous times, like the 
present when it was ill convenient for him to live 
farther in the country in ony of his better and mair 
principal manors ; but, for its antiquity, maist 
folk think that the outside of Wolfs Crag is worthy 
of a large perusal/' 

"And you are determined we shall have time to 
make it," said Ravenswood, somewhat amused 
with the shifts the old man used to detain them 
without doors, until his confederate Mysie had 
made her preparations within. 

"Oh, never mind the outside of the house, my 
good friend," said Bucklaw; "let's see the inside, 
and let our horses see the stable, that's all." 

"Oh, yes, sir, — ay, sir, — unquestionably, sir, — 
my lord and ony of his honorable companions" — 

" But our horses, my old friend — our horses ; 
they will be dead-foundered by standing here in 
the cold after riding hard, and mine is too good to 
be spoiled ; therefore, once more, our horses," ex- 
claimed Bucklaw. 

"True — ay — your horses — yes — I will call 
the grooms;" and sturdily did Caleb roar till the 



306 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

old tower rang again, — "John — William — 
Saunders ! — The lads are gane out, or sleeping/' 
he observed, after pausing for an answer, which he 
knew that he had no human chance of receiving. 
"A* gaes wrang when the Master's out by; but 
I'll take care o' your cattle mysell." 

"I think you had better," said Ravenswood, 
"otherwise I see little chance of their being at- 
tended to at all." 

"Whisht, my lord, — whisht, for God's sake," 
said Caleb, in an imploring tone, and apart to his 
master ; "if ye dinna regard your ain credit, think 
on mine ; we'll hae hard eneugh wark to mak a 
decent night o't, wi' a' the lees I can tell." 

"Well, well, never mind," said his master; 
"go to the stable. There is hay and corn, I 
trust?" 

"Ou ay, plenty of hay and corn.' 

"Very well," said Ravenswood, taking the lamp 
from his domestic's unwilling hand, "I will show 
the stranger upstairs myself." 

"I canna think o' that, my lord; — if ye wad 
but have five minutes', or ten minutes', or, at maist, 
a quarter of an hour's patience, and look at the 
fine moonlight prospect of the Bass * and North- 
Berwick Law till I sort the horses, I would marshal 
ye up, as reason as ye suld be marshaled, your 

1 Bass Rock, a rocky island off the coast from North Berwick in the Firth 
of Forth. 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 307 

lordship and your honorable visitor. And I hae 
lockit up the siller candlesticks, and the lamp is 
not fit" — 

"It. will do very well in the meantime/' said 
Ravenswood, "and you will have no difficulty for 
want of light in the stable, for, if I recollect, half 
the roof is off." 

"Very true, my lord," replied the trusty ad- 
herent, and with ready wit instantly added, "and 
the lazy sclater loons have never come to put it 
on a' this while, your lordship." 

"If I were disposed to jest at the calamities of 
my house," said Ravenswood, as he led the way 
upstairs, "poor old Caleb would furnish me with 
ample means. His passion consists in representing 
things about our miserable menage, not as they are, 
but as, in his opinion, they ought to be ; and, to 
say the truth, I have been often diverted with the 
poor wretch's expedients to supply what he thought 
was essential for the credit of the family, and his 
still more generous apologies for the want of those 
articles for which his ingenuity could discover no 
substitute. But though the tower is none of the 
largest, I shall have some trouble without him to 
find the apartment in which there is a fire." 

After opening one or two doors in vain, Ravens- 
wood led the way into a little matted anteroom, 
in which, to their great joy, they found a tolerably 
good fire, which Mysie had supplied with a reason- 



308 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

able quantity of fuel. Glad at the heart to see 
more of comfort than the castle had yet seemed to 
offer, Bucklaw rubbed his hands heartily over the 
fire, and now listened with more complacency to 
the apologies which the Master of Ravenswood 
offered. "Comfort," he said, "I cannot provide 
for you, for I have it not for myself; it is long 
since these walls have known it, if, indeed, they 
were ever acquainted with it. Shelter and safety, 
I think, I can promise you." 

"Excellent matters, Master," replied Bucklaw, 
"and, with a mouthful of food and wine, positively 
all I can require to-night." 

"I fear," said the Master, "your supper will be 
a poor one ; I hear the matter in discussion betwixt 
Caleb and Mysie. Poor Balderston is something 
deaf, amongst his other accomplishments, so that 
much of what he means should be spoken aside 
is overheard by the whole audience, and especially 
by those from whom he is most anxious to conceal 
his private maneuvers — Hark !" 

They listened, and heard the old domestic's 
voice in conversation with Mysie to the following 
effect. "Just mak the best o't, mak the best o't, 
woman ; it's easy to put a fair face on onything." 

"But the auld brood-hen ? — she'll be as teugh 
as bowstrings and bend-leather !" 

"Say ye made a mistake — say ye made a 
mistake, Mysie," replied the faithful seneschal, 






THE RUSES OF CALEB 309 

in a soothing and undertoned voice ; " tak it a' 
on yoursell ; never let the credit o' the house 
suffer." 

But the brood-hen/' remonstrated Mysie, — 
ou, she's sitting some gate aneath the dais in the 
hall, and I am feared to gae in in the dark for the 
bogle ; and if I didna see the bogle, I could as ill 
see the hen, for it's pit-mirk, and there's no another 
light in the house, save that very blessed lamp 
whilk the Master has in his ain hand. And if I 
had the hen, she's to pu', and to draw, and to 
dress ; how can I do that, and them sitting by the 
only fire we have ?' J 

"Weel, weel, Mysie," said the butler, "bide ye 
there a wee, and I'll try to get the lamp wiled 
away frae them." 

Accordingly, Caleb Balderston entered the apart- 
ment, little aware that so much of his by-play had 
been audible there. "Well, Caleb, my old friend, 
is there any chance of supper ?" said the Master of 
Ravenswood. 

"Chance of supper, your lordship ?" said Caleb, 
with an emphasis of strong scorn at the implied 
doubt, — "How should there be ony question of 
that, and us in your lordship's house ? — Chance 
of supper, indeed ! — But ye'll no be for butcher- 
meat ? There's walth o' fat poultry, ready either 
for spit or brander x — The fat capon, Mysie !" he 

1 Broiler. 



310 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

added, calling out as boldly as if such a thing had 
been in existence. 

"Quite unnecessary/' said Bucklaw, who deemed 
himself bound in courtesy to relieve some part of 
the anxious butler's perplexity, "if you have any- 
thing cold, or a morsel of bread/' 

"The best of bannocks 1 !" exclaimed Caleb, 
much relieved ; " and, for cauld meat, a' that we 
hae is cauld eneugh, — howbeit maist of the cauld 
meat and pastry was gien to the poor folk ; never- 
theless" 

"Come, Caleb," said the Master of Ravens- 
wood, "I must cut this matter short. This is 
the young laird of Bucklaw ; he is under hiding, 
and therefore, you know" — 

"He'll be nae nicer than your lordship's honor, 
I'se warrant," answered Caleb, cheerfully, with a 
nod of intelligence ; "I am sorry that the gentle- 
man is under distress, but I am blithe that he 
canna say muckle agane our housekeeping, for I 
believe his ain pinches may match ours ; — no 
that we are pinched, thank God," he added, re- 
tracting the admission which he had made in his 
first burst of joy, "but nae doubt we are waur off 
than we hae been, or suld be. And for eating, — 
what signifies telling a lee ? there's just the hinder 
end of the mutton-ham that has been but three 
times on the table, and the nearer the bane the 

1 Oatmeal cakes. 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 31 1 

sweeter, as your honors weel ken ; and — there's 
the heel of the ewe-milk kebbuck, 1 wp a bit of 
nice butter, and — and — that's a' that's to trust 
to." And with great alacrity he produced his 
slender stock of provisions, and placed them with 
much formality upon a small round table betwixt 
the two gentlemen, who were not deterred either 
by the homely quality or limited quantity of the 
repast from doing it full justice. Caleb in the 
meanwhile waited on them with grave officious- 
ness, as if anxious to make up, by his own respect- 
ful assiduity, for the want of all other attendance. 

But alas ! how little on such occasions can form, 
however anxiously and scrupulously observed, 
supply the lack of substantial fare ! Bucklaw, 
who had eagerly eaten a considerable portion of 
the thrice-sacked mutton-ham, now began to de- 
mand ale. 

"I wadna just presume to recommend our ale," 
said Caleb; "the maut was ill made, and there 
was awfu' thunner last week ; but siccan water 
as the Tower well has ye'll seldom see, Bucklaw, 
and that Fse engage for." 

" But if your ale is bad, you can let us have some 
wine," said Bucklaw, making a grimace at the 
mention of the pure element which Caleb so 
earnestly recommended. 

"Wine ?" answered Caleb, undauntedly, 

1 A kind of wild turnip. 



312 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"eneugh of wine; it was but twa days syne — 
wae's me for the cause — there was as much wine 
drunk in this house as would have floated a pin- 
nace. There never was lack of wine at Wolfs 
Crag." 

"Do fetch us some then," said his master, 
"instead of talking about it." And Caleb boldly 
departed. 

Every expended butt in the old cellar did he 
set a-tilt, and shake with the desperate expectation 
of collecting enough of the grounds of claret to 
fill the large pewter measure which he carried in 
his hand. Alas ! each had been too devoutly 
drained ; and, with all the squeezing and maneu- 
vering which his craft as a butler suggested, he 
could only collect about half a quart that seemed 
presentable. Still, however, Caleb was too good a 
general to renounce the field without a stratagem 
to cover his retreat. He undauntedly threw down 
an empty flagon, as if he had stumbled at the en- 
trance of the apartment ; called upon Mysie to 
wipe up the wine that had never been spilt, and 
placing the other vessel on the table, hoped there 
was still enough left for their honors. There 
was indeed ; for even Bucklaw, a sworn friend to 
the grape, found no encouragement to renew his 
first attack upon the vintage of Wolfs Crag, but 
contented himself, however reluctantly, with a 
draft of fair water. 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 313 

Arrangements were now made for his repose ; 
and as the secret chamber was assigned for this 
purpose, it furnished Caleb with a first-rate and 
most plausible apology for all deficiencies of fur- 
niture, bedding, etc. 

"For wha," said he, "would have thought of 
the secret chaumer being needed ? it has not been 
used since the time of the Gowrie Conspiracy, 1 
and I durst never let a woman ken of the entrance 
to it, or your honor will allow that it wad not hae 
been a secret chaumer lang." 

II 

The morning, which had arisen calm and bright, 
gave a pleasant effect even to the waste moorland 
view which was seen from the castle on looking 
to the landward ; and the glorious ocean, crisped 
with a thousand rippling waves of silver, extended 
on the other side, in awful yet complacent majesty, 
to the verge of the horizon. 

To seek out Bucklaw in the retreat which he had 
afforded him was the first occupation of the Master. 
"How now, Bucklaw ?" was his morning's saluta- 
tion — "how like you the couch in which the exiled 
Earl of Angus once slept in security, when he was 
pursued by the full energy of a king's resentment ?' 

1 A conspiracy against the life or personal freedom of James VI of Scot- 
land by the Earl of Gowrie and others. 



314 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Umph V s returned the sleeper awakened; "I 
have little to complain of where so great a man was 
quartered before me, only the mattress was of the 
hardest, the vault somewhat damp, the rats rather 
more mutinous than I would have expected from 
the state of Caleb's larder ; and if there had been 
shutters to that grated window, or a curtain to the 
bed, I should think it, upon the whole, an improve- 
ment in your accommodations. " 

"It is, to be sure, forlorn enough/' said the 
Master, looking around the small vault ; "but if 
you will rise and leave it, Caleb will endeavor to 
find you a better breakfast than your supper of last 
night." 

" Pray, let it be no better," said Bucklaw, getting 
up, and endeavoring to dress himself as well as 
the obscurity of the place would permit, — "let 
it, I say, be no better, if you mean me to persevere 
in my proposed reformation. The very recollection 
of Caleb's beverage has done more to suppress my 
longing to open the day with a morning draft 
than twenty sermons would have done. But this 
same breakfast, Master, — does the deer that is to 
make the pastry run yet on foot, as the ballad has 
it?" 

"I will inquire into that matter," said his en- 
tertainer ; and, leaving the apartment, he went in 
search of Caleb, whom, after some difficulty, he 
found in an obscure sort of dungeon, which had 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 315 

been in former times the buttery of the castle. 
Here the old man was employed busily in the 
doubtful task of burnishing a pewter flagon until it 
should take the hue and semblance of silver-plate. 
"I think it may do — I think it might pass, if 
they winna bring it ower muckle in the light o' the 
window I" were the ejaculations which he muttered 
from time to time, as if to encourage himself in his 
undertaking, when he was interrupted by the voice 
of his master. "Take this/' said the Master of 
Ravenswood, "and get what is necessary for the 
family/' And with these words he gave to the 
old butler a purse. The old man shook his silvery 
and thin locks, and looked with an expression of 
the most heartfelt anguish at his master as he 
weighed in his hand the slender treasure, and said 
in a sorrowful voice, "And is this a' that's left ?' 

"All that is left at present," said the Master, 
affecting more cheerfulness than perhaps he really 
felt, "is just the green purse and the wee pickle 
gowd, as the old song says ; but we shall do better 
one day, Caleb." 

"Before that day comes," said Caleb, "I doubt 
there will be an end of an auld sang, and an auld 
serving man to boot. But it disna become me to 
speak that gate to your honor, and you looking 
so pale. Tak back the purse, and keep it to be 
making a show before company ; for if your honor 
would just take a bidding, and be whiles taking 



316 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

it out afore folk and putting it up again, there's 
naebody would refuse us trust, for a' that's come 
and gane yet/' 

"But, Caleb/' said the Master, "I still intend 
to leave this country very soon, and desire to do 
so with the reputation of an honest man, leaving 
no debt behind me, at least of my own contracting." 

"And gude right ye suld gang away as a true 
man, and so ye shall ; for auld Caleb can tak the 
wyte of whatever is taen on for the house, and then 
it will be a' just ae man's burden ; and I will live 
just as weel in the tolbooth * as out of it, and the 
credit of the family will be a' safe and sound." 

The master endeavored, in vain, to make Caleb 
comprehend that the butler's incurring the re- 
sponsibility of debts in his own person would 
rather add to than remove the objections which 
he had to their being contracted. He spoke to a 
premier too busy in devising ways and means, to 
puzzle himself with refuting the arguments offered 
against their justice or expediency. 

"There's Eppie Sma'trash will trust us for ale," 
said Caleb to himself; "she has lived a' her life 
under the family — and maybe wi' a soup brandy 
— I canna say for wine — she is but a lone woman, 
and gets her claret by a runlet at a time — but 
I'll work a wee drap out o' her by fair means or foul. 
For doos, there's the doocot — there will be 

1 A town jail. 



THE RUSES OF CALEB 317 

poultry amang the tenants, though Lucky Chirn- 
side says she has paid the kain 1 twice ower. We'll 
mak shift, an it like your honor — we'll mak shift 
— keep your heart abune, for the house sail haud 
its credit as lang as auld Caleb is to the fore." 

The entertainment which the old man's exertions 
of various kinds enabled him to present to the 
young gentlemen for three or four days was cer- 
tainly of no splendid description, but it may 
readily be believed it was set before no critical 
guests ; and even the distresses, excuses, evasions, 
and shifts of Caleb afforded amusement to the 
young men, and added a sort of interest to the 
scrambling and irregular style of their table. 

From " The Bride of Lammermoor." 

1 Kain or cane is rent paid in kind, as poultry, eggs, etc. 



ALLEN-A-DALE 

Allen-a-dale has no fagot for burning, 
Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning, 
Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning, 
Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning. 
Come, read me my riddle ! come, hearken my tale ! 
And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale. 

The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride, 
And he views his domains upon Arkindale side. 
The mere for his net, and the land for his game, 
The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame ; 
Yet the fish of the lake, and the deer of the vale, 
Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale ! 

Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight, 

Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as 

bright ; 
Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord, 
Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word ; 
And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail, 
Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a- 
Dale. 

Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come ; 

The mother, she asked of his household and home : 

318 



"LOOK NOT THOU ON BEAUTY'S CHARMING" 319 

"Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the 

hill, 
My hall," quoth bold Allen, " shows gallanter 

still ; 
Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so 

pale, 
And with all its bright spangles !" said Allen-a- 

Dale. 

The father was steel, and the mother was stone ; 
They lifted the latch, and they bade him be gone ; 
But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry : 
He had laughed on the lass with his bonny black 

eye, 
And she fled to the forest to hear a love tale, 
And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale ! 

From " Rokeby." 

"LOOK NOT THOU ON BEAUTY'S CHARMING" 

Look not thou on beauty's charming ; 
Sit thou still when kings are arming ; 
Taste not when the wine cup glistens ; 
Speak not when the people listens ; 
Stop thine ear against the singer ; 
From the red gold keep thy finger ; 
Vacant heart and hand and eye, 
Easy live and quiet die. 

From " The Bride of Lammermoor." 



MACGREGOR'S GATHERING 

[The severe treatment of this clan, their outlawry, and the 
proscription of their very name are alluded to in this ballad.] 

The moon's on the lake and the mist's on the brae, 
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day ; 

Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach ! 

Gather, gather, gather, etc. 

Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew, 
Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo ! 

Then haloo, Grigalach ! haloo, Grigalach ! 

Haloo, haloo, haloo, Grigalach, etc. 

Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchurn and her 

towers, 
Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours ; 

We're landless, landless, landless, Grigalach ! 

Landless, landless, landless, etc. 

But doomed and devoted by vassal and lord, 
MacGregor has still both his heart and his sword ! 

Then courage, courage, courage, Grigalach ! 

Courage, courage, courage, etc. 

If they rob us of name and pursue us with beagles, 
Give their roofs to the flame and their flesh to the 
eagles ! 

320 



MACGREGOR'S GATHERING 321 

Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Griga- 

lach! 
Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, etc. 

While there's leaves in the forest and foam on the 

river, 
MacGregor, despite them, shall flourish forever ! 

Come then, Grigalach, come then, Grigalach ! 

Come then, come then, come then, etc. 

Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed 

shall career, 
O'er the peak of Ben-Lomond the galley shall 

steer. 
And the rocks of Craig-Royston like icicles melt, 
Ere our wrongs be forgot or our vengeance unfelt. 
Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach ! 
Gather, gather, gather, etc. 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 

[Frank Osbaldistone, the hero of the novel "Rob Roy," 
accompanied by Bailie Nicol Jarvie of Glasgow and a quaint 
servant named Andrew Fairservice, penetrates into the High- 
lands on an important mission to the outlaw, Rob Roy 
MacGregor. They find themselves caught in the midst of a 
struggle between the MacGregors and the followers of the 
Duke of Montrose who have entered the Highlands for the 
purpose of seizing the outlawed chief, Rob Roy. 

At the beginning of our selection Rob Roy and Frank 
Osbaldistone both are in the hands of the duke's forces. 
Montrose and Major Galbraith, Laird of Garschattachin, 
are awaiting their allies, Highland clans at enmity with the 
MacGregors.] 

The videttes, who had been dispatched, returned 
without tidings of the expected auxiliaries, and 
sunset was approaching, when a Highlander be- 
longing to the clans whose cooperation was ex- 
pected, appeared as the bearer of a letter, which 
he delivered to the duke with a most profound 
conge. 

" Now will I wad a hogshead of claret," said Gar- 
schattachin, "that this is a message to tell us that 
these cursed Highlandmen, whom we have fetched 
here at the expense of so much plague and vexa- 
tion are going to draw off, and leave us to do our 
own business if we can/' 

322 




Rob Roy 



323 



324 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"It is even so, gentlemen/' said the duke, 
reddening with indignation, after having perused 
the letter, which was written upon a very dirty 
scrap of paper, but most punctiliously addressed, 
"For the much-honored hands of Ane High and 
Mighty Prince, the Duke, &c. &c. &c." "Our 
allies/' continued the duke, "have deserted us, 
gentlemen, and have made a separate peace with 
the enemy/' 

"It's just the fate of all alliances," said Gar- 
schattachin ; "the dutch were gaun to serve us the 
same gate, if we had not got the start of them at 
Utrecht." x 

"You are facetious, sir," said the duke, with a 
frown which showed how little he liked the pleas- 
antry, "but our business is rather of a grave cast 
just now — I suppose no gentleman would advise 
our attempting to penetrate farther into the coun- 
try, unsupported either by friendly Highlanders, 
or by infantry from Inversnaid ?" 

A general answer announced that the attempt 
would be perfect madness. 

"Nor would there be great wisdom," the duke 
added, "in remaining exposed to a night attack 
in this place. I therefore propose that we should 
retreat to the house of Duchray and that of Gar- 
tartan, and keep safe and sure watch and ward 

1 The reference is to the Peace of Utrecht in 1713, concluded between 
France on one side and England, Holland, and Prussia on the other. 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 325 

until morning. But before we separate, I will 
examine Rob Roy before you all, and make you 
sensible, by your own eyes and ears, of the extreme 
unfitness of leaving him space for farther outrage/' 
He gave orders accordingly, and the prisoner was 
brought before him, his arms belted down above 
the elbow, and secured to his body by a horse 
girth buckled tight behind him. Two noncom- 
missioned officers had hold of him, one on each 
side, and two file of men with carabines and fixed 
bayonets attended for additional security. 

I had never seen this man in the dress of his 
country, which set in striking point of view the 
peculiarities of his form. A shock-head of red 
hair, which the hat and periwig of the Lowland 
costume had in a great measure concealed, was 
seen beneath the Highland bonnet, and verified 
the epithet of Roy, or Red, by which he was much 
better known in the Low Country than by any 
other, and is still, I suppose, best remembered. 
The justice of the appellation was also vindicated 
by the appearance of that part of his limbs, from 
the bottom of his kilt to the top of his short hose, 
which the fashion of his country dress left bare, 
and which was covered with a fell of thick, short, 
red hair, especially around his knees, which re- 
sembled in this respect, as well as from their sinewy 
appearance of extreme strength, the limbs of a 
red-colored Highland bull. Upon the whole, be- 



326 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

twixt the effect produced by the change of dress, 
and by my having become acquainted with his 
real and formidable character, his appearance had 
acquired to my eyes something so much wilder 
and more striking than it before presented, that 
I could scarce recognize him to be the same per- 
son. 1 

His manner was bold, unconstrained unless by 
the actual bonds, haughty, and even dignified. 
He bowed to the duke, nodded to Garschattachin 
and others, and showed some surprise at seeing me 
among the party. 

'It is long since we have met, Mr. Campbell," 
said the duke. 

"It is so, my Lord Duke ; I could have wished it 
had been" (looking at the fastening on his arms) 
"when I could have better p^id the compliments 
I owe to your Grace — but there's a gude time 
coming." 

"No time like the time present, Mr. Campbell," 
answered the duke, "for the hours are fast flying 
that must settle your last account with all mortal 
affairs. I do not say this to insult your distress ; 
but you must be aware yourself that you draw 
near the end of your career. I do not deny that 
you may sometimes have done less harm than 
others of your unhappy trade, and that you may 

1 Frank had first met Rob Roy in Lowland dress, under the name of 
Campbell. Campbell was supposed to be a cattle dealer. 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 327 

occasionally have exhibited marks of talent, and 
even of a disposition which promised better things. 
But you are aware how long you have been the 
terror and the oppressor of a peaceful neighbor- 
hood, and by what acts of violence you have main- 
tained and extended your usurped authority. You 
know, in short, that you have deserved death, and 
that you must prepare for it." 

"My lord," said Rob Roy, "although I may well 
lay my misfortunes at your Grace's door, yet I 
will never say that you yourself have been the will- 
ful and witting author of them. My lord, if I had 
thought sae, your Grace would not this day have 
been sitting in judgment on me ; for you have been 
three times within good rifle distance of me when 
you were thinking but of the red deer, and few 
people have kend me miss my aim. But as for 
them that have abused your Grace's ear, and set 
you up against a man that was ance as peacefu' a 
man as ony in the land, and made your name the 
warrant for driving me to utter extremity, — I 
have had some amends of them, and, for a' that 
your Grace now says, I expect to live to hae mair." 

"I know," said the duke, in rising anger, "that 
you are a determined and impudent villain, who 
will keep his oath if he swears to mischief; but it 
shall be my care to prevent you. You have no 
enemies but your own wicked actions." 

"Had I called myself Grahame, instead of Camp- 



328 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

bell, I might have heard less about them/' an- 
swered Rob Roy, with dogged resolution. 

"You will do well, sir," said the duke, "to 
warn your wife and family and followers, to be- 
ware how they use the gentlemen now in their 
hands, as I will requite tenfold on them, and their 
kin and allies, the slightest injury done to any of 
his majesty's liege subjects." 

"My lord," said Roy in answer, "none of my 
enemies will allege that I have been a bloodthirsty 
man, and were I now wi' my folk, I could rule four 
or five hundred wild Hielanders as easy as your 
Grace those eight or ten lackeys and footboys. 
But if your Grace is bent to take the head away 
from a house, ye may lay your account there will 
be misrule amang the members. — However, come 
o't what like, there's an hoaest man, a kinsman o' 
my ain, maun come by nae skaith. 1 — Is there 
ony body here wad do a gude deed for MacGregor ? 
— he may repay it, though his hands be now 
tied." 

The Highlander who had delivered the letter to 
the duke replied, "I'll do your will for you, Mac- 
Gregor ; and Fll gang back up the glen on pur- 
pose." 

He advanced, and received from the prisoner a 
message to his wife, which, being in Gaelic, I did 
not understand, but I had little doubt it related 

1 The same as scathe, meaning harm, injury. 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 329 

to some measures to be taken for the safety of 
Mr. Jarvie. 

"Do you hear the fellow's impudence ?" said 
the duke ; "he confides in his character of a mes- 
senger. His conduct is of a piece with his masters', 
who invited us to make common cause against 
these freebooters, and have deserted us so soon 
as the MacGregors have agreed to surrender the 
Balquidder lands they were squabbling about. 

"'No truth in plaids, no faith in tartan trews ! 
Cameleon-like, they change a thousand hues." 

"Your great ancestor never said so, my lord/' 
answered Major Galbraith ; "and, with submis- 
sion, neither would your Grace have occasion to 
say it, wad ye but be for beginning justice at the 
well-head. — Gie the honest man his mear again. — 
Let every head wear its ain bannet, and the dis- 
tractions o' the Lennox wad be mended wi' them 
o' the land." 

Hush ! hush ! Garschattachin," said the duke ; 
this is language dangerous for you to talk to any 
one, and especially to me ; but I presume you 
reckon yourself a privileged person. Please to 
draw off your party towards Gartartan ; I shall 
myself see the prisoner escorted to Duchray, and 
send you orders to-morrow. You will please 
grant no leave of absence to any of your troopers." 

"Here's auld ordering and counter-ordering," 






330 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

muttered Garschattachin between his teeth. " But 
patience ! patience ! — we may ae day play at 
Change seats, the king's coming." 

The echoes of the rocks and ravines, on either 
side, now rang to the trumpets of the cavalry, 
which, forming themselves into two distinct bodies, 
began to move down the valley at a slow trot. 
That commanded by Major Galbraith soon took 
to the right hand, and crossed the Forth, for the 
purpose of taking up the quarters assigned them 
for the night, when they were to occupy, as I 
understood, an old castle in the vicinity. They 
formed a lively object while crossing the stream, 
but were soon lost in winding up the bank on the 
opposite side, which was clothed with wood. 

We continued our march with considerable 
good order. To insure the safe custody of the 
prisoner, the duke had caused him to be placed 
on horseback behind one of his retainers, called, 
as I was informed, Ewan of Brigglands, one of the 
largest and strongest men who were present. A 
horse belt, passed round the bodies of both, and 
buckled before the yeoman's breast, rendered it 
impossible for Rob Roy to free himself from his 
keeper. I was directed to keep close beside them, 
and accommodated for the purpose with a troop 
horse. We were as closely surrounded by the sol- 
diers as the width of the road would permit, and 
had always at least one, if not two, on each side 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 331 

with pistol in hand. Andrew Fairservice, fur- 
nished with a Highland pony of which they had 
made prey somewhere or other, was permitted to 
ride among the other domestics, of whom a great 
number attended the line of march, though with- 
out falling into the ranks of the more regularly 
trained troopers. 

In this manner we traveled for a certain dis- 
tance, until we arrived at a place where we also 
were to cross the river. The Forth, as being the 
outlet of a lake, is of considerable depth, even 
where less important in point of width, and the 
descent to the ford was by a broken, precipitous 
ravine, which only permitted one horseman to 
descend at once. The rear and center of our small 
body halting on the bank while the front files 
passed down in succession produced a consider- 
able delay, as is usual on such occasions, and even 
some confusion ; for a number of those riders, who 
made no proper part of the squadron, crowded to 
the ford without regularity, and made the militia 
cavalry, although tolerably well drilled, partake in 
some degree of their own disorder. 

It was while we were thus huddled together on 
the bank that I heard Rob Roy whisper to the man 
behind whom he was placed on horseback, ''Your 
father, Ewan, wadna hae carried an auld friend 
to the shambles, like a calf, for a' the dukes in 
Christendom. " 



332 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Ewan returned no answer, but shrugged, as one 
who would express by that sign that what he was 
doing was none of his own choice. 

"And when the MacGregors come down the 
glen, and ye see toom faulds, 1 a bluidy hearth- 
stane, and the fire flashing out between the rafters 
o' your house, ye may be thinking then, Ewan, 
that were your friend Rob to the fore, you would 
have had that safe which it will make your heart 
sair to lose." 

Ewan of Brigglands again shrugged and groaned, 
but remained silent. 

"It's a sair thing," continued Rob, sliding his 
insinuations so gently into Ewan's ear that they 
reached no other but mine, who certainly saw my- 
self in no shape called upon to destroy his pros- 
pects of escape — "It's a sair thing, that Ewan of 
Brigglands, whom Roy MacGregor has helped with 
hand, sword, and purse, suld mind a gloom from a 
great man mair than a friend's lifer" 

Ewan seemed sorely agitated, but was silent. 
We heard the duke's voice from the opposite 
bank call, "Bring over the prisoner." 

Ewan put his horse in motion, and just as I 
heard Roy say, "Never weigh a MacGregor's 
bluid against a broken whang o' leather, for there 
will be another accounting to gie for it baith here 
and hereafter," they passed me hastily, and dash- 

1 Empty sheep folds. 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 333 

ing forward rather precipitately, entered the 
water. 

"Not yet, sir — not yet/' said some of the 
troopers to me, as I was about to follow, while 
others pressed forward into the stream. 

I saw the duke on the other side, by the waning 
light, engaged in commanding his people to get 
into order, as they landed dispersedly, some higher, 
some lower. Many had crossed, some were in the 
water, and the rest were preparing to follow, when 
a sudden splash warned me that MacGregor's 
eloquence had prevailed on Ewan to give him free- 
dom and a chance for life. The duke also heard 
the sound, and instantly guessed its meaning. 
"Dog!" he exclaimed to Ewan, as he landed, 
" where is your prisoner ?' 3 and, without waiting 
to hear the apology which the terrified vassal be- 
gan to falter forth, he fired a pistol at his head, 
whether fatally I know not, and exclaimed, "Gentle- 
men, disperse and pursue the villain ! — An hun- 
dred guineas for him that secures Rob Roy \ 9i 

All became an instant scene of the most lively 
confusion. Rob Roy, disengaged from his bonds, 
doubtless by Ewan's slipping the buckle of his belt, 
had dropped off at the horse's tail, and instantly 
dived, passing under the belly of the troop horse 
which was on his left hand. But as he was 
obliged to come to the surface an instant for air, 
the glimpse of his tartan plaid drew the attention 



334 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

of the troopers, some of whom plunged into the 
river with a total disregard to their own safety, 
rushing, according to the expression of their coun- 
try, through pool and stream, sometimes swim- 
ming their horses, sometimes losing them and 
struggling for their own lives. Others less zealous, 
or more prudent, broke off in different directions, 
and galloped up and down the banks, to watch 
the places at which the fugitive might possibly 
land. The hollowing, the whooping, the calls for 
aid at different points, where they saw, or con- 
ceived they saw, some vestige of him they were 
seeking, — the frequent report of pistols and cara- 
bines, fired at every object which excited the least 
suspicion, — the sight of so many horsemen riding 
about, in and out of the river, and striking with 
their long broadswords afwhatever excited their 
attention, joined to the vain exertions used by 
their officers to restore order and regularity ; and 
all this in so wild a scene, and visible only by the 
imperfect twilight of an autumn evening, made 
the most extraordinary hubbub I had hitherto 
witnessed. I was indeed left alone to observe it, 
for our whole cavalcade had dispersed in pursuit, 
or at least to see the event of the search. Indeed, 
as I partly suspected at the time, and afterwards 
learned with certainty, many of those who seemed 
most active in their attempts to waylay and re- 
cover the fugitive were, in actual truth, least 



ROB ROY IN THE TOILS 335 

desirous that he should be taken, and only joined 
in the cry to increase the general confusion, and 
to give Rob Roy a better opportunity of escaping. 

Escape, indeed, was not difficult for a swimmer 
so expert as the freebooter, as soon as he had 
eluded the first burst of pursuit. At one time he 
was closely pressed, and several blows were made 
which flashed in the water around him ; the scene 
much resembling one of the otter hunts which I 
had seen at Osbaldistone Hall, where the animal 
is detected by the hounds from his being neces- 
sitated to put his nose above the stream to vent 
or breathe, while he is enabled to elude them by 
getting under water again so soon as he has re- 
freshed himself by respiration. MacGregor, how- 
ever, had a trick beyond the otter ; for he contrived, 
when very closely pursued, to disengage himself 
unobserved from his plaid, and suffer it to float 
down the stream, where in its progress it quickly 
attracted general attention ; many of the horse- 
men were thus put upon a false scent, and several 
shots or stabs were averted from the party for 
whom they were designed. 

Once fairly out of view, the recovery of the 
prisoner became almost impossible, since, in so 
many places, the river was rendered inaccessible 
by the steepness of its banks, or the thickets of 
alders, poplars, and birch, which, overhanging its 
banks, prevented the approach of horsemen. 



336 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Errors and accidents had also happened among 
the pursuers, whose task the approaching night 
rendered every moment more helpless. Some got 
themselves involved in the eddies of the stream, 
and required the assistance of their companions 
to save them from drowning. Others, hurt by 
shots or blows in the confused melee, implored 
help or threatened vengeance, and in one or two 
instances such accidents led to actual strife. The 
trumpets, therefore, sounded the retreat, announc- 
ing that the commanding officer, with whatsoever 
unwillingness, had for the present relinquished 
hopes of the important prize which had thus un- 
expectedly escaped his grasp, and the troopers 
began slowly, reluctantly, and brawling with each 
other as they returned, again to assume their 
ranks. I could see them darkening, as they formed 
on the southern bank of the river, whose murmurs, 
long drowned by the louder cries of vengeful 
pursuit, were now heard hoarsely mingling with the 
deep, discontented, and reproachful voices of the 

disappointed horsemen. 

From " Rob Roy." 



"A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID" 



U 



A weary lot is thine, fair maid, 

A weary lot is thine ! 
To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, 

And press the rue for wine ! 
A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, 

A feather of the blue, 
A doublet of the Lincoln green, — 

No more of me you knew, 

My love ! 
No more of me you knew. 



"This morn is merry June, I trow, 

The rose is budding fain ; 
But she shall bloom in winter snow 

Ere we two meet again." 
He turned his charger as he spake 

Upon the river shore, 
He gave his bridle reins a shake, 
Said, " Adieu forevermore, 

My love ! 
And adieu forevermore." 

From " Rokeby. 
337 



NORA'S VOW 

Hear what Highland Nora said, 
"The Earlie's son I will not wed, 
Should all the race of nature die 
And none be left but he and I. 
For all the gold, for all the gear, 
And all the lands both far and near, 
That ever valor lost or won, 
I would not wed the Earlie's son." 

"A maiden's vows," old Callum spoke, 
"Are lightly made and lightly broke ; 
The heather on the mountain's height 
Begins to bloom in purple light ; 
The frost wind soon shall sweep away 
That lustre deep from glen and brae ; 
Yet Nora ere its bloom be gone 
May blithely wed the Earlie's son." 

"The swan," she said, "the lake's clear breast 

May barter for the eagle's nest ; 

The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn, 

Ben-Cruaichan fall and crush Kilchurn * ; 

Our kilted clans when blood is high 

Before their foes may turn and fly ; 

1 Kilchurn Castle is near the mountain, Ben-Cruaichan. 

338 



LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF 339 

But I, were all these marvels done, 
Would never wed the Earlie's son." 



Still in the water lily's shade 

Her wonted nest the wild swan made ; 

Ben-Cruaichan stands as fast as ever, 

Still downward foams the Awe's fierce river ; 

To shun the clash of foeman's steel 

No Highland brogue has turned the heel ; 

But Nora's heart is lost and won — 

She's wedded to the Earlie's son ! 



LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF 

Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, 

Thy mother a lady both lovely and bright ; 

The woods and the glens, from the towers which we 

see, 
They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee. 

O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, 

O ho ro, i ri ri, etc. 

Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, 
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; 
Their bows would be bended, their blades would 

be red, 
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed. 
O ho ro, i ri ri, etc. 



340 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come, 
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and 

drum ; 
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you 

may, 
For strife comes with manhood and waking with 

day. 
O ho ro, i ri ri, etc. 



THE MARCH OF THE HIGHLAND ARMY 

[In this selection Captain Waverley is about to join the 
Highland army as it marches to the support of the "Young 
Pretender," Charles Edward. In 1745 Charles Edward left 
France and landed in Scotland to proclaim his father — the 
chevalier St. George, son of James II — King, as James VIII 
of Scotland and III of England. This was the "Second 
Jacobite Rebellion," and it ended in failure with the battle 
of Culloden in April, 1746. The attempt in both the Jacobite 
Rebellions was to reestablish the family of Stuart on the 
English throne, which was descended from the deposed king, 
James II.] 

When Waverley had surmounted a small craggy 
eminence, called St. Leonard's Hill, the King's 
Park, or the hollow between the mountain of 
Arthur's seat, and the rising grounds on which 
the southern part of Edinburgh is now built, lay 
beneath him, and displayed a singular and animat- 
ing prospect. It was occupied by the army of 
the Highlanders, now in the act of preparing for 
their march. The rocks, which formed the back- 
ground of the scene, and the very sky itself, rang 
with the clang of the bagpipers, summoning forth, 
each with his appropriate pibroch, his chieftain 
and clan. The mountaineers, rousing themselves 

341 



342 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

from their couch under the canopy of heaven with 
the hum and bustle of a confused and irregular 
multitude, like bees alarmed and arming in their 
hives, seemed to possess all the pliability of move- 
ment fitted to execute military maneuvers. Their 
motions appeared spontaneous and confused, but 
the result was order and regularity ; so that a 
general must have praised the conclusion, though 
a martinet might have ridiculed the method by 
which it was attained. 

The sort of complicated medley created by the 
hasty arrangements of the various clans under 
their respective banners, for the purpose of getting 
into the order of march, was in itself a gay and 
lively spectacle. They had no tents to strike, 
having generally, and by choice, slept upon the 
open field, although the autumn was now waning, 
and the nights began to be frosty. For a little 
space, while they were getting into order, there 
was exhibited a changing, fluctuating, and con- 
fused appearance of waving tartans and floating 
plumes, and of banners displaying the proud 
gathering word of Clanronald, Ganion Coheriga 
(Gainsay who dares) ; Lochsloy, the watchword 
of the Mac-Farlanes ; Forth, fortune, and fill the 
fetters, the motto of the Marquis of Tullibardine ; 
Bydand, that of Lord Lewis Gordon ; and the ap- 
propriate signal words and emblems of many other 
chieftains and clans. 




Bonnie Prince Charlie 



343 



344 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

At length the mixed and wavering multitude 
arranged themselves into a narrow and dusky 
column of great length, stretching through the 
whole extent of the valley. In the front of the 
column the standard of the Chevalier was dis- 
played, bearing a red cross upon a white ground, 
with the motto Tandem Triumphans. The few 
cavalry, being chiefly Lowland gentry, with their 
domestic servants and retainers, formed the ad- 
vanced guard of the army ; and their standards, 
of which they had rather too many in respect to 
their numbers, were seen waving upon the extreme 
verge of the horizon. . . . 

While Waverley gazed upon this remarkable 
spectacle, rendered yet more impressive by the 
occasional discharge of cannon shot from the 
Castle at the Highland guards as they were with- 
drawn from its vicinity to join their main body, 
Callum, 1 with his usual freedom of interference, 
reminded him that Vich Ian Vohr's folk were 
nearly at the head of the column of march which 
was still distant, and that "they would gang very 
fast after the cannon fired." Thus admonished, 
Waverley walked briskly forward, yet often cast- 
ing a glance upon the darksome clouds of warriors 
who were collected before and beneath him. A 
nearer view, indeed, rather diminished the effect 

1 Galium Beg, a page of Fergus Maclvor, Vich Ian Vohr, the Highland 
chieftain whose forces Waverley was to join. 



THE MARCH OF THE HIGHLAND ARMY 345 

impressed on the mind by the more distant ap- 
pearance of the army. The leading men of each 
clan were well armed with broadsword, target, 
and fusee, to which all added the dirk, and most 
the steel pistol. But these consisted of gentlemen, 
that is, relations of the chief, however distant, 
and who had an immediate title to his countenance 
and protection. Finer and hardier men could not 
have been selected out of any army in Christen- 
dom ; while the free and independent habits which 
each possessed, and which each was yet so well 
taught to subject to the command of his chief, 
and the peculiar mode of discipline adopted in 
Highland warfare, rendered them equally for- 
midable by their individual courage and high 
spirit, and from their rational conviction of the 
necessity of acting in unison, and of giving their 
national mode of attack the fullest opportunity 
of success. 

But in a lower rank to these, there were found 
individuals of an inferior description, the common 
peasantry of the Highland country, who, although 
they did not allow themselves to be so called, and 
claimed often, with apparent truth, to be of more 
ancient descent than the masters whom they 
served, bore, nevertheless, the livery of extreme 
penury, being indifferently accoutered, and worse 
armed, half naked, stinted in growth, and miser- 
able in aspect. 



346 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

From this it happened that, in bodies the van 
of which were admirably well armed in their own 
fashion, the rear resembled actual banditti. Here 
was a poleax, there a sword without a scabbard ; 
here a gun without a lock, there a scythe set 
straight upon a pole ; and some had only their 
dirks, and bludgeons or stakes pulled out of hedges. 
The grim, uncombed, and wild appearance of these 
men, most of whom gazed with all the admiration 
of ignorance upon the most ordinary production of 
domestic art, created surprise in the Lowlands, 
but it also created terror. So little was the con- 
dition of the Highlands known at that late period, 
that the character and appearance of their popu- 
lation, while thus sallying forth as military ad- 
venturers, conveyed to the south-country Low- 
landers as much surprise as if an invasion of 
African Negroes, or Eskimo Indians, had is- 
sued forth from the northern mountains of their 
own native country. It cannot therefore be won- 
dered if Waverley, who had hitherto judged of the 
Highlanders generally, from the samples which 
the policy of Fergus had from time to time ex- 
hibited, should have felt damped and astonished 
at the daring attempt of a body not then exceeding 
four thousand men, and of whom not above half 
the number, at the utmost, were armed, to change 
the fate, and alter the dynasty, of the British 
kingdoms. 



THE MARCH OF THE HIGHLAND ARMY 347 

As he moved along the column, which still re- 
mained stationary, an iron gun, the only piece of 
artillery possessed by the army which meditated 
so important a revolution, was fired as the signal 
of march. The Chevalier had expressed a wish to 
leave this useless piece of ordnance behind him ; 
but, to his surprise, the Highland chiefs interposed 
to solicit that it might accompany their march, 
pleading the prejudices of their followers, who, 
little accustomed to artillery, attached a degree 
of absurd importance to this fieldpiece, and ex- 
pected it would contribute essentially to a victory 
which they could only owe to their own muskets 
and broadswords. Two or three French artillery- 
men were therefore appointed to the management of 
this military engine, which was drawn along by a 
string of Highland ponies, and was, after all, only 
used for the purpose of firing signals. 

No sooner was its voice heard upon the present 
occasion, than the whole line was in motion. A 
wild cry of joy from the advancing battalions 
rent the air, and was then lost in the shrill clangor 
of the bagpipes, as the sound of these, in their 
turn, was partially drowned b)^ the heavy tread 
of so many men put at once into motion. The 
banners glittered and shook as they moved for- 
ward, and the horse hastened to occupy their 
station as the advanced guard, and to push on 
reconnoitering parties to ascertain and report the 



348 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

motions of the enemy. They vanished from 
Waverley's eye as they wheeled round the base 
of Arthur's Seat, under the remarkable ridge of 
basaltic rocks which fronts the little lake of 
Dudingston. 

From " Waverley." 



BORDER SONG 

March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, 

Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order ? 
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, 

All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. 

Many a banner spread 

Flutters above your head, 
Many a crest that is famous in story. 

Mount and make ready then, 

Sons of the mountain glen, 
Fight for the queen and the old Scottish glory. 

Come from the hills where your hirsels 1 are grazing, 

Come from the glen of the buck and the roe ; 
Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, 
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. 
Trumpets are sounding, 
War steeds are bounding, 
Stand to your arms, then, and march in good 
order, 
England shall many a day 
Tell of the bloody fray, 
When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border. 

From "The Monastery." 

1 A flock of sheep. 
349 



PROUD MAISIE 

Proud Maisie is in the wood, 

Walking so early ; 
Sweet Robin sits on the bush, 

Singing so rarely. 

"Tell me, thou bonny bird, 
When shall I marry me ?" — 

" When six braw gentlemen 
Kirkward shall carry ye." 

"Who makes the bridal bed, 

Birdie, say truly ?" — 
" The gray-headed sexton 

That delves the grave duly. 

"The glow-worm o'er grave and stone 

Shall light thee steady. 
The owl from the steeple sing, 

' Welcome, proud lady/" 

From "The Heart of Midlothian." 



350 



DOMINIE SAMPSON 

[Dominie Sampson has been for many years a member of 
the household of the Laird of Ellangowan. On the death of 
the laird, it appeared that fate must separate him from Lucy 
Bertram, the young daughter of Ellangowan, to whom the 
old Dominie was much attached. Lucy was to enter the 
household of Colonel Mannering as a companion to his 
daughter Julia. Mannering has recently hired the estate of 
Woodbourne, through his business agent, the kindly sheriff, 
Mr. Mac-Morlan. In the following extract we learn first of 
Dominie Sampson's early years, and then of the circum- 
stances attending his going to Woodbourne.] 

I 

Abel Sampson — commonly called, from his 
occupation as a pedagogue, Dominie Sampson — 
was of low birth ; but having evinced, even from 
his cradle, an uncommon seriousness of disposi- 
tion, the poor parents were encouraged to hope 
that their bairn, as they expressed it, "might wag 
his pow in a pulpit yet." With an ambitious 
view to such consummation, they pinched and 
pared, rose early and lay down late, ate dry bread 
and drank cold water, to secure to Abel the means 
of learning. Meantime, his tall, ungainly figure, 
his taciturn and grave manners, and some gro- 
tesque habits of swinging his limbs, and screwing 

351 



352 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

his visage, while reciting his task, made poor 
Sampson the ridicule of all his school companions. 
The same qualities secured him at Glasgow college 
a plentiful share of the same sort of notice. Half 
the youthful mob " of the yards" used to assemble 
regularly to see Dominie Sampson (for he had 
already attained that honorable title) descend 
the stairs from the Greek class, with his Lexicon 
under his arm, his long misshapen legs sprawling 
abroad, and keeping awkward time to the play of 
his immense shoulder blades, as they raised and 
depressed the loose and threadbare black coat 
which was his constant and only wear. When 
he spoke, the efforts of the professor (professor 
of divinity though he was) were totally inade- 
quate to restrain the inextinguishable laughter of 
the students, and sometimes even to repress his 
own. The long, sallow visage, the goggle eyes, 
the huge under jaw, which appeared not to open 
and shut by an act of volition, but to be dropped 
and hoisted up again by some complicated ma- 
chinery within the inner man, — the harsh and 
dissonant voice, and the screech-owl notes to which 
it was exalted when he was exhorted to pronounce 
more distinctly, — all added fresh subject for 
mirth to the torn cloak and shattered shoe, which 
have afforded legitimate subjects of raillery against 
the poor scholar, from Juvenal's 1 time downward. 

1 A noted satirical poet of the time of Trajan. 



DOMINIE SAMPSON 353 

It was never known that Sampson either exhibited 
irritability at this ill usage, or made the least 
attempt to retort upon his tormentors. He slunk 
from college by the most secret paths he could 
discover, and plunged himself into his miserable 
lodgings, where, for eighteen pence a week, he was 
allowed the benefit of a straw mattress, and, if his 
landlady was in good humor, permission to study 
his task by her fire. Under all these disadvantages, 
he obtained a competent knowledge of Greek and 
Latin, and some acquaintance with the sciences. 

In progress of time, Abel Sampson, probationer 
of divinity, was admitted to the privileges of a 
preacher. But, alas ! partly from his own bash- 
fulness, partly owing to a strong and obvious 
disposition to risibility which pervaded the con- 
gregation upon his first attempt, he became totally 
incapable of proceeding in his intended discourse, 
gasped, grinned, hideously rolled his eyes till the 
congregation thought them flying out of his head, 
shut the Bible, stumbled down the pulpit-stairs, 
trampling upon the old women who generally 
take their station there, and was ever after desig- 
nated as a "stickit minister." 1 And thus he 
wandered back to his own country, with blighted 
hopes and prospects, to share the poverty of his 
parents. As he had neither friend nor confidant, 
hardly even an acquaintance, no one had the means 

1 An unsuccessful minister. 



354 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

of observing closely how Dominie Sampson bore 
a disappointment which supplied the whole town 
with a week's sport. It would be endless even to 
mention the numerous jokes to which it gave 
birth, from a ballad, called "Sampson's Riddle/' 
written upon the subject by a smart young student 
of humanity, to the sly hope of the Principal, that 
the fugitive had not, in imitation of his mighty 
namesake, taken the college gates along with him 
in his retreat. 

To all appearance, the equanimity of Sampson 
was unshaken. He sought to assist his parents 
by teaching a school, and soon had plenty of 
scholars, but very^ few fees. In fact, he taught 
the sons of farmers for what they chose to give 
him, and the poor for nothing ; and, to the shame 
of the former be it spoken, the pedagogue's gains 
never equaled those of a skillful plowman. He 
wrote, however, a good hand, and added something 
to his pittance by copying accounts and writing 
letters for Ellangowan. By degrees, the Laird, 
who was much estranged from general society, 
became partial to that of Dominie Sampson. 
Conversation, it is true, was out of the question, 
but the Dominie was a good listener, and stirred 
the fire with some address. He attempted even to 
snuff the candles, but was unsuccessful, and relin- 
quished that ambitious post of courtesy after hav- 
ing twice reduced the parlor to total darkness. So 



DOMINIE SAMPSON 



355 



his civilities, thereafter, were confined to taking 
off his glass of ale in exactly the same time and 
measure with the Laird, and in uttering certain 
indistinct murmurs of acquiescence at the con- 
clusion of the long and winding stories of Ellan- 
gowan. 

On one of these occasions, he presented for the 
first time to Mannering his tall, gaunt, awkward, 
bony figure, attired in a threadbare suit of black, 
with a colored handkerchief, not overclean, about 
his sinewy, scraggy neck, and his nether person 
arrayed in gray breeches, dark blue stockings, 
clouted shoes, and small copper buckles. 

II 

The fate of Dominie Sampson would have been 
deplorable had it depended upon any one except 
Mannering, who was an admirer of originality, 
for a separation from Lucy Bertram would have 
certainly broken his heart. Mac-Morlan had given 
a full account of his proceedings towards the daugh- 
ter of his patron. The answer was a request from 
Mannering to know, whether the Dominie still 
possessed that admirable virtue of taciturnity by 
which he was so notably distinguished at Ellan- 
gowan. Mac-Morlan replied in the affirmative. 
"Let Mr. Sampson know," said the Colonel's 
next letter, "that I shall want his assistance to 



356 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

catalogue and put in order the library of my uncle, 
the bishop, which I have ordered to be sent down 
by sea. I shall also want him to copy and arrange 
some papers. Fix his salary at what you think 
befitting. Let the poor man be properly dressed, 
and accompany his young lady to Woodbourne." 

Honest Mac-Morlan received this mandate with 
great joy, but pondered much upon executing that 
part of it which related to newly attiring the 
worthy Dominie. He looked at him with a scru- 
tinizing eye, and it was but too plain that his 
present garments were daily waxing more deplor- 
able. To give him money, and bid him go and 
furnish himself, would be only giving him the 
means of making himself ridiculous ; for when 
such a rare event arrived to Mr. Sampson as the 
purchase of new garments, the additions which 
he made to his wardrobe, by the guidance of his 
own taste, usually brought all the boys of the 
village after him for many days. On the other 
hand, to bring a tailor to measure him, and send 
home his clothes, as for a schoolboy, would prob- 
ably give offense. At length Mac-Morlan re- 
solved to consult Miss Bertram, and request her 
interference. She assured him, that though she 
could not pretend to superintend a gentleman's 
wardrobe, nothing was more easy than to arrange 
the Dominie's. 

"At Ellangowan," she said, "whenever my poor 



DOMINIE SAMPSON 357 

father thought any part of the Dominie's dress 
wanted renewal, a servant was directed to enter 
his room by night, for he sleeps as fast as a dor- 
mouse, carry off the old vestment, and leave the 
new one ; nor could any one observe that the 
Dominie exhibited the least consciousness of the 
change put upon him on such occasions." 

Mac-Morlan, in conformity with Miss Bertram's 
advice, procured a skillful artist, who, on looking 
at the Dominie attentively, undertook to make 
for him two suits of clothes, one black, and one 
raven-gray, and even engaged that they should 
fit him — as well at least (so the tailor qualified 
his enterprise) as a man of such an out-of-the-way 
build could be fitted by merely human needles 
and shears. When this fashioner had accom- 
plished his task, and the dresses were brought 
home, Mac-Morlan, judiciously resolving to ac- 
complish his purpose by degrees, withdrew that 
evening an important part of his dress, and sub- 
stituted the new article of raiment in its stead. 
Perceiving that this passed totally without notice, 
he next ventured on the waistcoat, and lastly on 
the coat. When fully metamorphosed, and ar- 
rayed for the first time in his life in a decent dress, 
they did observe, that the Dominie seemed to have 
some indistinct and embarrassing consciousness 
that a change had taken place on his outward 
man. Whenever they observed this dubious ex- 



358 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

pression gather upon his countenance, accom- 
panied with a glance, that fixed now upon the 
sleeve of his coat, now upon the knees of his 
breeches, where he probably missed some antique 
patching and darning, which, being executed with 
blue thread upon a black ground, had somewhat 
the effect of embroidery, they always took care to 
turn his attention into some other channel, until 
his garments, "by the aid of use, cleaved to their 
mold." The only remark he was ever known to 
make on the subject was, that "the air of a town 
like Kippletringan seemed favorable unto wear- 
ing apparel, for he thought his coat looked almost 
as new as the first clay he put it on, which was when 
he went to stand trial for his license as a preacher/' 

From " Guy Mannering." 



ALICE BRAND 

Merry it is in the good greenwood, 

When the mavis l and merle 2 are singing, 

When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in 
cry, 
And the hunter's horn is ringing. 

"O Alice Brand, my native land 

Is lost for love of you ; 
And we must hold by wood and wold, 3 

As outlaws wont to do. 

"O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright, 
And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, 

That on the night of our luckless flight, 
Thy brother bold I slew. 

"Now must I teach to hew the beech 

The hand that held the glaive, 
For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 

And stakes to fence our cave. 

"And for vest of pall, 4 thy fingers small, 

That wont on harp to stray, 
A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer, 

To keep the cold away." — 

1 Thrush. 2 Blackbird. 3 Open grazing country. 

4 The rich cloth from which mantles were made. 

359 



360 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"O Richard ! if my brother died, 

'Twas but a fatal chance ; 
For darkling was the battle tried, 

And fortune sped the lance. 

"If pall and vair x no more I wear, 

Nor thou the crimson sheen, 
As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, 

As gay the forest green. 

"And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 

And lost thy native land, 
Still Alice has her own Richard, 

And he his Alice Brand." 

'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood, 

So blithe Lady Alice is singing ; 
On the beech's pride, and oak's brown side, 

Lord Richard's ax is ringing. 

Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 

Who woned 2 within the hill, — 
Like wind in the porch of a ruined church, 

His voice was ghostly shrill. 

"Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak, 
Our moonlight circle's screen ? 

1 A kind of fur much worn in the Middle Ages. 2 Dwelt. 



ALICE BRAND 361 

Or who comes here to chase the deer, 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
Or who may dare on wold to wear 

The fairies' fatal green ? 

"Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, 

For thou wert christened man ; 
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, 

For muttered word or ban." 

'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood, 
Though the birds have stilled their singing ; 

The evening blaze doth Alice raise, 
And Richard is fagots bringing. 

Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 
Before Lord Richard stands, 

And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 
"I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, 
"That is made with bloody hands." 

But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 

That woman void of fear, — 
"And if there's blood upon his hand, 

'Tis but the blood of deer." — 

"Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood ! 

It cleaves unto his hand, 
The stain of thine own kindly 1 blood, 

The blood of Ethert Brand." 

1 Kindred. 



362 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, 

And made the holy sign, — 
"And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 

A spotless hand is mine. 

"And I conjure thee, demon elf, 

By Him whom demons fear, 
To show us whence thou art thyself, 

And what thine errand here ?" 



<< 9 



Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy-land, 
When fairy birds are singing, 
When the court doth ride by their monarch's side, 
With bit and brid,le ringing : 

"And gayly shines the Fairy-land — 

But all is glistening show, 
Like the idle gleam that December's beam 

Can dart on ice and snow. 

" And fading, like that varied gleam, 

Is our inconstant shape, 
Who now like knight and lady seem, 

And now like dwarf and ape. 

"It was between the night and day, 

When the Fairy King has power, 
That I sunk down in a sinful fray, 
And, 'twixt life and death, was snatched away 

To the joyless Elfin bower. 



HUNTING SONG 363 

"But wist I of a woman bold, 

Who thrice my brow durst sign, 
I might regain my mortal mold, 

As fair a form as thine." 

She crossed him once — she crossed him twice — 

That lady was so brave ; 
The fouler grew his goblin hue, 

The darker grew the cave. 

She crossed him thrice, that lady bold ; 

He rose beneath her hand 
The fairest knight on Scottish mold, 

Her brother, Ethert Brand ! 

Merry it is in good greenwood, 

When the mavis and merle are singing, 

But merrier were they in Dunfermline x gray, 
When all the bells were ringing. 

From " The Lady of the Lake." 



HUNTING SONG 

Waken, lords and ladies gay, 

On the mountains dawns the day, 

All the jolly chase is here, 

With hawk and horse and hunting spear ! 

Hounds are in their couples yelling, 

1 Here was once the most magnificent abbey in Scotland ; destroyed by 
the English in 1303. 



HUNTING SONG 365 

Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, 
Merrily, merrily, mingle they, 
" Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

Waken, lords and ladies gay, 

The mist has left the mountain gray, 

Springlets in the dawn are steaming, 

Diamonds on the brake are gleaming : 

And foresters have busy been 

To track the buck in thicket green ; 

Now we come to chant our lay, 

" Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

Waken, lords and ladies gay, 
To the greenwood haste away ; 
We can show you where he lies, 
Fleet of foot and tall of size ; 
We can show the marks he made, 
When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed ; 
You shall see him brought to bay, 
" Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

Louder, louder chant the lay, 
Waken, lords and ladies gay ! 
Tell them youth and mirth and glee 
Run a course as well as we ; 
Time, stern huntsman, who can balk, 
Stanch as hound and fleet as hawk ? 
Think of this and rise with day, 
Gentle lords and ladies gay. 



CHRISTMAS IN MERRY ENGLAND 

Heap on more wood ! — the wind is chill ; 

But let it whistle as it will, 

We'll keep our Christmas merry still. 

Each age has deemed the new-born year 

The fittest time for festal cheer : 

Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane 

At Iol * more deep the mead did drain, 

High on the beach his galleys drew, 

And feasted all his pirate crew ; 

Then in his low and pine-built hall, 

Where shields and axes decked the wall, 

They gorged upon the half-dressed steer, 

Caroused in seas of sable beer, 

While round in brutal jest were thrown 

The half-gnawed rib and marrowbone, 

Or listened all in grim delight 

While scalds 2 yelled out the joys of flight. 

Then forth in frenzy would they hie, 

While wildly loose their red locks fly, 

And dancing round the blazing pile, 

They make such barbarous mirth the while 

1 Danish word for festivity, still applied to Christmas in Scotland, 

2 Singers or reciters of poems. 

366 



CHRISTMAS IN MERRY ENGLAND 367 

As best might to the mind recall 
The boisterous joys of Odin's hall. 



And well our Christian sires of old 
Loved when the year its course had rolled, 
And brought blithe Christmas back again 
With all his hospitable train. 
Domestic and religious rite 
Gave honor to the holy night ; 
On Christmas eve the bells were rung, 
On Christmas eve the mass was sung ; 
That only night in all the year 
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear. 
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ; 
The hall was dressed with holly green ; 
Forth to the wood did merrymen go, 
To gather in the mistletoe. 
Then opened wide the baron's hall 
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all ; 
Power laid his rod of rule aside, 
And Ceremony doffed his pride. 
The heir, with roses * in his shoes, 
That night might village partner choose ; 
The lord, underogating, share 
The vulgar game of " post and pair." 
All hailed, with uncontrolled delight 
And general voice, the happy night 

1 Rosettes. 



368 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

That to the cottage, as the crown, 
Brought tidings of salvation down. 

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, 
Went roaring up the chimney wide ; 
The huge hall-table's oaken face, 
Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace, 
Bore then upon its massive board 
No mark to part the squire and lord. 
Then was brought in the lusty brawn 
By old blue-coated serving man ; 
Then the grim boar's head frowned on high, 
Crested with bays and rosemary. 
Well can the green-garbed ranger tell 
How, when, and where the monster fell, 
What dogs before his death he tore, 
And all the baiting of the boar. 
The wassail round, in good brown bowls 
Garnished with ribbons, blithely trowls. 
There the huge sirloin reeked ; hard by 
Plum porridge stood and Christmas pie ; 
Nor failed old Scotland to produce 
At such high tide her savory goose. 
Then came the merrv maskers in, 
And carols roared with blithesome din ; 
If unmelodious was the song, 
It was a hearty note and strong. 
Who lists may in their mumming see 
Traces of ancient mystery ; 



CHRISTMAS IN MERRY ENGLAND 369 

White shirts supplied the masquerade, 

And smutted cheeks the visors made ; 

But oh ! what maskers, richly dight, 

Can boast of bosoms half so light ! 

England was merry England when 

Old Christmas brought his sports again. 

'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale, 

'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; 

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer 

The poor man's heart through half the year. 

From " Marmion." 



THE SCOTSMAN AT HOME 

[Captain Brown, an English army officer, is making a 
walking tour through northern England into Scotland. At 
a small inn in Cumberland he falls in with Dandie Dinmont, 
a hospitable Scottish farmer just returning from the fairs. 
Their common interest in dogs and hunting leads Dinmont 
to invite Brown to stop at his farm, Charlies-hope, which 
lies close to the young man's pathway northward. The 
farmer starts out mounted on his horse Dumple, and is fol- 
lowed by the captain afoot. On the road, Dinmont is set 
upon by ruffians, and escapes a severe beating only through 
the timely arrival of Brown and his dog Wasp. Then, both 
mounted upon Dumple, the two men proceed to Charlies- 
hope.] 

Night was now falling, when they came in sight 
of a pretty river winding its way through a pastoral 
country. The hills were greener and more abrupt 
than those which Brown had lately passed, sink- 
ing their grassy sides at once upon the river. They 
had no pretensions to magnificence of height, or 
to romantic shapes, nor did their smooth swelling 
slopes exhibit either rocks or woods. Yet the 
view was wild, solitary, and pleasingly rural. No 
inclosures, no roads, almost no tillage — it seemed 
a land which a patriarch would have chosen to 
feed his flocks and herds. The remains of here 
and there a dismantled and ruined tower showed 

370 



THE SCOTSMAN AT HOME 371 

that it had once harbored beings of a very differ- 
ent description from its present inhabitants ; 
those freebooters, namely, to whose exploits 
the wars between England and Scotland bear 
witness. 

Descending by a path towards a well-known ford, 
Dumple crossed the small river, and then quicken- 
ing his pace, trotted about a mile briskly up its 
banks, and approached two or three low thatched 
houses, placed with their angles to each other, 
with a great contempt of regularity. This was 
the farmsteading of Charlies-hope, or, in the lan- 
guage of the country, "the Town." A most fu- 
rious barking was set up at their approach, by the 
whole three generations of Mustard and Pepper, 
and a number of allies, names unknown. The 
farmer made his well-known voice lustily heard to 
restore order — the door opened, and a half- 
dressed ewe milker, who had done that good office, 
shut it in their faces, in order that she might run 
ben the house, 1 to cry "Mistress, mistress, it's the 
master, and another man wi' him." Dumple, 
turned loose, walked to his own stable door, and 
there pawed and whinnied for admission, in strains 
which were answered by his acquaintances from 
the interior. Amid this bustle, Brown was fain 
to secure Wasp from the other dogs, who, with 
ardor corresponding more to their own names 

1 Into another room of the house. 



372 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

than to the hospitable temper of their owner, 
were much disposed to use the intruder roughly. 

In about a minute a stout laborer was patting 
Dumple, and introducing him into the stable, 
while Mrs. Dinmont, a well-favored buxom dame, 
welcomed her husband with unfeigned rapture. 
"Eh, sirs ! gudeman, ye hae been a weary while 
away !" 

"Deil's 1 in the wife/'. said Dandie Dinmont, 
shaking off his spouse's embrace, but gently and 
with a look of great affection; — "deil's in ye, 
Ailie — d'ye no see the stranger gentleman?" 

Ailie turned to make her apology — "Troth, I 
was sae weel pleased to see the gudeman, that — 
But, gude gracious ! what's the matter wi' ye 
baith ?" — for they were now in her little parlor, 
and the candle showed the streaks of blood which 
Dinmont's wounded head had plentifully imparted 
to the clothes of his companion as well as to his 
owp. "Ye've been fighting again, Dandie, wi' 
some o' the Bewcastle horse coupers ! 2 Wow, 3 
man, a married man, wi' a bonny family like 
yours, should ken better what a father's life's 
worth in the warld." — The tears stood in the good 
woman's eyes as she spoke. 

"Whist ! whist ! gudewife," said her husband, 
with a smack that had much more affection than 
ceremony in it. "Never mind — never mind — 

1 The devil. 2 Horse dealers. 3 Tut ! 



THE SCOTSMAN AT HOME 373 

there's a gentleman that will tell you, that just 
when I was whigging cannily x awa hame, twa 
land loupers 2 jumpit out of a peat-hag 3 on me 
as I was thinking, and got me down, and knevelled 4 
me sair aneuch, or I could gar my whip walk about 
their lugs — and troth, gudewife, if this honest 
gentleman hadna come up, I would have gotten 
mair licks than I like, and lost mair siller than I 
could weel spare ; so ye maun be thankful to him 
for it, under God." With that he drew from 
his side-pocket a large greasy leather pocket- 
book, and bade the gudewife lock it up in her 
kist. 

u God bless the gentleman, and e'en God bless 
him wi' a' my heart — but what can we do for him, 
but to gie him the meat and quarters we wadna 
refuse to the poorest body on earth — unless (her 
eye directed to the pocket-book, but with a feel- 
ing of natural propriety which made the inference 
the most delicate possible), unless there was ony 

other way " Brown saw, and estimated at 

its due rate, the mixture of simplicity and grateful 
generosity which took the downright way of ex- 
pressing itself, yet qualified with so much delicacy. 
He hastened to say his name was Brown, a captain 

in the regiment of cavalry, traveling for 

pleasure, and on foot, both from motives of inde- 

1 Jogging on cheerfully. 2 Tramps, vagabonds. 

3 A pit from which peat has been dug. 4 Beat. 



374 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

pendence and economy ; and he begged his kind 
landlady would look at her husband's wounds, the 
state of which he had refused to permit him to 
examine. Mrs. Dinmont was used to her hus- 
band's broken heads more than to the presence of 
a captain of dragoons. She therefore glanced at 
a tablecloth not quite clean, and conned over her 
proposed supper a minute or two, before, patting 
her husband on the shoulder, she bade him sit 
down for "a hard-headed loon, that was aye 
bringing himsell and other folk into collie- 
shangies. 1 " 

When Dandie Dinmont, after executing two or 
three caprioles, 2 and cutting the Highland fling, 
by way of ridicule of his wife's anxiety, at last 
deigned to sit down, and commit his round, black, 
shaggy bullet of a head to her inspection, Brown 
thought he had seen the regimental surgeon look 
grave upon a more trifling case. The gudewife, 
however, showed some knowledge of chirurgery 3 
— she cut away with her scissors the gory locks, 
clapped on the wound some lint besmeared with 
a vulnerary salve, esteemed sovereign by the whole 
dale, fixed her plaster with a bandage, and, spite 
of her patient's resistance, pulled over all a night- 
cap, to keep everything in its right place. Mrs. 
Dinmont then simply, but kindly, offered her 
assistance to Brown. 

1 Quarrels, rows. 2 Capers. 3 Surgery. 



THE SCOTSMAN AT HOME 375 

He assured her he had no occasion for any- 
thing but the accommodation of a basin and 
towel. 

"And that's what I should have thought of 
sooner/' she said; "and I did think o't, but I 
durst na open the door,- for there's a' the bairns, 
poor things, sae keen to see their father." 

This explained a great drumming and whining 
at the door of the little parlor, which had some- 
what surprised Brown, though his kind landlady 
had only noticed it by fastening the bolt as soon 
as she heard it begin. But on her opening the 
door to seek the basin and towel (for she never 
thought of showing the guest to a separate room), 
a whole tide of white-headed urchins streamed in, 
some from the stable, where they had been seeing 
Dumple, and giving him a welcome home with 
part of their four-hours scones ; x others from the 
kitchen, where they had been listening to auld 
Elspeth's tales and ballads ; and the youngest 
half-naked, out of bed, all roaring to see daddy, 
and to inquire what he had brought home for them 
from the various fairs he had visited in his pere- 
grinations. Our knight of the broken head first 
kissed and hugged them all round, then distrib- 
uted whistles, penny trumpets, and gingerbread, 
and, lastly, when the tumult of their joy and wel- 
come got beyond* bearing, exclaimed to his guest 

1 Luncheon (eaten at about 4 p.m.) of oatmeal cakes. 



376 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

— "This is a' the gudewife's fault, captain — she 
will gie the bairns a' their ain way." 

"Me ! Lord help me/' said Ailie, who at that 
instant entered with the basin and ewer, "how 
can I help it ? — I have naething else to gie them, 
poor things !" 

Dinmont then exerted himself, and, between 
coaxing, threats, and shoving, cleared the room of 
all the intruders, excepting a boy and girl, the 
two eldest of the family, who could, as he observed, 
behave themselves " distinctly/' For the same 
reason, but with less ceremony, all the dogs were 
kicked out, excepting the venerable patriarchs, old 
Pepper and Mustard, whom frequent castigation 
and the advance of years had inspired with such 
a share of passive hospitality, that, after mutual 
explanation and remonstrance in the shape of 
some growling, they admitted Wasp, who had 
hitherto judged it safe to keep beneath his master's 
chair, to a share of a dried wedder's x skin, which, 
with the wool uppermost and unshorn, served all 
the purposes of a Bristol hearthrug. 

The active bustle of the mistress (so she was 
called in the kitchen, and the gudewife in the 
parlor) had already signed the fate of a couple of 
fowls, which, for want of time to dress them other- 
wise, soon appeared reeking from the gridiron. 
A huge piece of cold beef-ham, eggs, butter, cakes, 

iRam. 



THE SCOTSMAN AT HOME 377 

and barley-meal bannocks in plenty, made up the 
entertainment, which was to be diluted with home- 
brewed ale of excellent quality, and a case-bottle 
of brandy. Few soldiers would find fault with 
such cheer after a day's hard exercise, and a skir- 
mish to boot ; accordingly Brown did great honor 
to the eatables. 

At length, the captain resolutely declined all 
further conviviality for that evening, pleading his 
own weariness and the effects of the skirmish. A 
very small bedroom, but a very clean bed, received 
the traveler, and the sheets made good the cour- 
teous vaunt of the hostess, "that they would be 
as pleasant as he could find ony gate, 1 for they were 
washed wi' the fairy-well water, and bleached on 
the bonny white gowans, and bittled 2 by Nelly 
and hersell, and what could woman, if she was a 
queen, do mair for them ?" 

Little Wasp, after licking his master's hand to 

ask leave, couched himself on the coverlet at his 

feet ; and the traveler's senses were soon lost in 

grateful oblivion. 

From "Guy Mannering." 

1 Way. 

2 Beaten. A wooden pestle is used in washing clothes by the waterside. 



APPENDIX 

REFERENCE BOOKS 

I. ON SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Narrative of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. 
Begun by himself and continued by J. G. Lockhart. {Every- 
man s Library, E. P. Dutton & Co., New York.) 

This is Lockhart's own condensation of his "Memoirs of 
the Life of Walter Scott, Bart.," the authoritative biography. 
The "Memoirs," however, on account of their bulk — eight 
volumes — are not convenient for school use. When refer- 
ence to Lockhart's pages is desired, therefore, this reprint 
will be found most satisfactory. There is a full index and 
an outline of each chapter. 

Sir Walter Scott, by Richard H. Hutton. {English 
Men of Letters, The Macmillan Company, New York.) 

This is a further condensation of Lockhart's story into less 
than two hundred pages. Its brevity makes it of special 
value to the teacher and student. 

Sir Walter Scott, by George Saintsbury. {Famous 
Scots Series, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York.) 

This is another brief life of Scott which contains, in addi- 
tion to biographical matter, interesting criticism upon char- 
acters and plot of the novels. 

Walter Scott, by Walter S. Hinchman. (A chapter 
in Hinchman and Gummere's " Lives of Great English 
Writers," Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston.) 

A succinct but comprehensive sketch of Scott's career. 
Written especially for school use. 

379 



380 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 

II. ON "THE WAVERLEY NOVELS" 

The Waverley Manual, by Sidney W. Cornish. (A. & 
C. Black, Edinburgh.) 

A finding list for the chief characters, incidents, and de- 
scriptions in ''The Waverley Novels." There are chapter 
references throughout, and an index. 

A Key to the Waverley Novels, by Henry Grey. 
(John Long, London.) 

Waverley Synopses, by J. Walker MacSpadden. (T. 
Y. Crowell & Co., New York.) 

In each of these books the story of each novel is told 
briefly, and there is an index of the principal characters. 

The Waverley Dictionary, by May Rogers. (S. C. 
Griggs & Co., Chicago.) 

An alphabetical arrangement of all the characters in "The 
Waverley Novels," with a descriptive analysis of each char- 
acter, illustrative selections from the text, and chapter 
references. The book also contains a synopsis by chapters 
of each novel. 

A Dictionary of the Characters in the Waverley 
Novels, by M. F. A. Husband. (G. Routledge & Sons, Ltd., 
London, and E. P. Dutton & Co., New York.) 

This work differs from "The Waverley Dictionary" 
mainly in that its identifications and descriptions are briefer. 
There are no chapter references. 

History in Scott's Novels, by Albert S. Gunning. (T. 
Fisher Unwin, London.) 

A literary study of the historical allusions in fifteen novels, 
viz.: "The Talisman," "Ivanhoe," "The Fair Maid of 
Perth," "Quentin Durward," "Anne of Geierstein," "The 
Monastery," "The Abbot," " Kenilworth," "The Fortunes 
of Nigel," "Woodstock," "Peveril of the Peak," "Old Mor- 
tality," "Rob Roy," "Waverley," and "Redgauntlet." 



IMPORTANT DATES IN ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH 

HISTORY 



OGETHER WITH THE NOVELS AND POEMS OF SCOTT 
WHICH ILLUSTRATE THE VARIOUS PERIODS 



410-1066. The Saxons and the 
Danes. 

The Bridal of Triermain. The 
action begins in the time of the 
legendary King Arthur; and 
by the enchantment of Merlin 
is concluded 500 years later. 

Tales of a Grandfather. 
Stories of Scottish history from 
1033 to the death of the Young 
Pretender, 1788. 

Harold the Dauntless. 

1066-1154. The Norman Period. 

William the Conqueror, 1066-1087. 
William Rufus, 1 087-1 100. 
First Crusade, 1096. 

Count Robert of Paris. 
Henry I, 1100-1135. 
Stephen, 1135-1154. 

1154-1399. The Angevin or Plantag- 
enet Period. 

Henry II, 1154-1189. 

The Betrothed. 
Richard I, 1189-1199. 
Richard becomes a Crusader, 1190. 

The Talisman. 

Ivanhoe. 
John, 1199-1216, 



Magna Charta is signed, 1215. 
Henry III, 1216-1272. 
Beginning of the House of Com- 
mons, 1265. 
Edward I, 1272-1307. 

Castle Dangerous. 
War with Scotland begins, 1295. 
Edward II, 1307-13 27. 

Lord of the Isles. 
Battle of Bannockburn, 13 14. 
Edward III, 1327-1377. 
Scotland becomes independent, 

1328. 
Hundred Years' War begins, 1338. 
Battle of Crecy, 1346. 
Battle of Poitiers, 1356. 
Richard II, 1377-1399. 

The Fair Maid of Perth. 



1399-1485. The Period of Lan- 
caster and York. 

Henry IV, 1 399-141 3. 

Henry V, 1413-1422. 

Battle of Agincourt, 1415. 

Henry VI, 1422-1461. 

Hundred Years' War ends, 1453. 

Wars of the Roses begin, 1455. 

Edward IV, 1461-1483. 

quentin durward. 

Anne of Geierstein. 
Caxton introduces printing, 1477. 



381 



382 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 



1399-1485 continued. 

Edward V, 1483. 
Richard III, 1483-1485. 
Battle of Bosworth Field; end 
of the Wars of the Roses, 1485. 



1485-1603. The Tudor Period. 

Henry VII, 1485-1509. 
Columbus discovers America, 1492. 
Henry VIII, 1509-1547. 
Battle of Flodden, 1513. 

Marmion. 

The Lady of the Lake. 

The Lay of the Last Minstrel. 
Edward VI, 1547-1553. 
Mary, 1553-1558. 
Elizabeth, 1558-1603. 
Drake sails around the world, 

1557. 
Execution of Mary, y Queen of 

Scots, 1587. 
Defeat of the Armada, 1588. 
The Monastery. 
The Abbot. 
Kenilworth. 



1603-1649. The Stuart Period — 
First Part. 

James I, 1603-1625. 

Virginia settled at Jamestown, 1607. 

The Fortunes of Nigel. 
Massachusetts settled at Plym- 
outh, 1620 
Charles I, 1625-1649. 
Pilgrims found Boston, 1630. 
English Prayer Book forced upon 

Scotland, 1637. 
Civil War begins with battle of 
Edgehill, 1642. 
A Legend of Montrose. 
Execution of Charles I, 1649. 
Rokeby. 



1649-1660. The Commonwealth 
and Protectorate Period. 

House of Lords abolished, 1649. 

Charles II proclaimed king in 
Scotland, 1649. 

Battle of Worcester and flight of 
Charles, 165 1. 

Cromwell becomes Lord Protector, 
1653. 

Richard Cromwell becomes Pro- 
tector, 1658. 
Woodstock. 
Peveril of the Peak. 

1660-1714. The Stuart Period — 
Second Part. 

Charles II, 1660-1685. 
The Great Plague, 1665. 
The Great Fire of London, 1666. 
Pennsylvania settled at Phila- 
delphia, 1682. 

Old Mortality. 
James II, 1685-1688. 
William and Mary, 1688-1702. 

The Pirate. 
Anne, 1702-1714. 
Battle of Blenheim, 1704. 
Union of England and Scotland, 
1707. 

The Black Dwarf. 

The Bride of Lammermoor. 



1714 



Hanoverian Period. 



George I, 1714-1727. 
Scotch Jacobites rebel in behalf 
of the Pretender, 1715. 

Rob Roy. 
George II, 1727-1760. 
Scotch Jacobites rebel in behalf 
of the Young Pretender, 1745. 

The Heart of Midlothian. 

Waverley. 

The Surgeon's Daughter. 



IMPORTANT DATES 



383 



1714 continued. 

George III, 1 760-1 820. 

Redgauntlet. 

The Highland Widow. 

Guy Mannering. 
American Revolution begins, 

1775- 
England acknowledges the inde- 
pendence of America, 1783. 
French Revolution, 1789. 
Burns writes, c. 1786. 
War with France, 1793. 
The Two Drovers. 
The Antiquary. 
Great Britain and Ireland united, 
1800. 



Second War with America, 1812. 
St. Ronan's Well. 

Scott's "Waverley" appears, 1814. 

Battle of Waterloo, 1815. 
Vision of Don Roderick. 1st 
Period — Invasion of Spain 
by the Moors, 714; 2d Period 
— Emperor Charles V, 15 16- 
1556, the conquest of Mexico, 
Peru, Chili, and New Gra- 
nada ; 3d Period — Ferdinand 
VII, King of Spain, War be- 
tween Napoleon and Great 
Britain in Spain and Portugal, 
1 808-1814. 
The Field of Waterloo. 



THE PLACE AND THE TIME OF THE PRINCIPAL 
SCENES OF THE WAVERLEY NOVELS 



Count Robert of Paris. Con- 
stantinople and Scutari, 1097. 

The Betrothed. The borders of 
England and Wales and the city 
of Gloucester, 1187. 

The Talisman. Syria, near the 
Dead Sea and the Crusaders' 
Camp between Jean d'Arc and 
Ascalon, 1191. 

Ivanhoe. Yorkshire and Leicester- 
shire, 1 194. 

Castle Dangerous. Douglasdale 
in Kirkcudbrightshire, 1307. 

The Fair Maid of Perth. Perth 
and vicinity, 1396. 

Quentin Durward. Plessis les 
Tours, Liege, and Peronne, i486. 

Anne of Geierstein. Switzerland, 
Germany, and France, 1474-1477. 

The Monastery. The Border 
Country, 1547-1557- 

The Abbot. Melrose, Edinburgh, 
and the Lowlands of Scotland, 
1567-1568. 



Kenilworth. Berkshire, Oxford- 
shire, Devonshire, London, and 
Kenilworth Castle, 1575. 

The Fortunes of Nigel. London 
and Greenwich, 1616-1618. 

A Legend of Montrose. The 
Highlands of Scotland, 1644- 
1645. 

Woodstock. Woodstock in Oxford- 
shire, Windsor, 1652, and Charles 
IPs Court at Brussels, 1660. 

Peveril of the Peak. Derbyshire, 
Isle of Man, and London, 1658- 
1660. 

Old Mortality. Various parts of 
Scotland, 1679 and 1689. 

The Pirate. Shetland and Orkney 
Islands, about 1700. 

The Bride of Lammermoor. East 
Lothian, Scotland, about 1709- 
1711. 

The Black Dwarf. Border 
Country, about 1707. 

Rob Roy. Northumberland, Glas- 



384 TALES AND VERSE FROM SIR WALTER SCOTT 



gow, and the mountains of Loch 

Lomond, 1715-1716. 
Heart of Midlothian. Edinburgh, 

London, Richmond, and Argyle- 

shire, 1736 and 1751. 
Waverley. Perthshire Highlands, 

1 745-1 746. 

Redgauntlet. Edinburgh, Dum- 
fries and neighborhood, Annan, 
the Solway Firth, and Cumber- 
land, 1766. 

Guy Mannering. Galloway, West- 
moreland, Liddesdale (in Dum- 



fries), Edinburgh, 1760—1765 and 
1 781-1782. 

The Highland Widow. Scotland, 
near Oban, about 1766. 

The Surgeon's Daughter. Fife- 
shire, Isle of Wight, and India, 
about 1750-1775. 

The Two Drovers. Perthshire and 
Cumberland, about 1795. 

The Antiquary. Forfarshire, about 

1795. 
St. Ronan's Well. Near the Firth 
of Forth, about 1812. 



XI 7 




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